Order & Chaos
by Gabrielle Tremblay
Summary: What happens when a lone assassin becomes entangled in a force born of the world between all worlds? As various factions and races rush to seize control over the greatest power in existance, she will fall prey to those who would destroy her to control her, only to find that those who would help her might be no better. Rated for death, violence, sex, torture. OC-centric, pairings.
1. Force

It has been ages since I've written anything… much less fanfiction. But I've had this story trotting in my head for quite a while and think it might be time to give it a go.  
As mentioned in the disclaimer, this is rated R for a reason. My OC main will be a soulless sociopath and there will be adult scenes. Read at your own risk. I don't do sweet and fluffy. I do dark and painful.

THIS IS SET after Avengers: Age of Ultron, but before the new Capt America. 

(0)

 _Her heart ached. How she missed him._

 _Of course, she would never admit it. But he knew. He'd always known._

 _After what she did to save him, to protect him… the path she walked down fearlessly just to have him safe… even though he would never be hers and she knew it._

 _It hadn't stopped her. It hadn't even slowed her down._

 _An outsider looking at the situation would have never understood. What were they to one another? Friends? Lovers? Something less?_

 _But she knew. And he knew. They'd always known._

 _He was her other half, forever destined to never be hers. And she was his other half, forever destined to never be his._

 _And when the only way to save him was to destroy herself, she didn't stop._

 _She didn't even slow down._

 _(0)_

Her hands were quick and precise. Not a tremble bothered those dextrous fingers as they wielded the sharp blade. It danced from finger to finger, moving as smoothly as water as it snipped and bit and cut… Her eyes did not follow the blade's movement: it was said that eyes limited the potential of precise movement by the time it took for the brain to analyse what it saw and project it into muscle reaction… as such, she's long since taught herself to move by instinct, disassociating her sight from her hands. She'd worked long and hard to become spatially aware to the point she didn't need to see in order to move; specific training with a retired Shaolin monk had been the key to unlocking this ability.

With a final, accurate cut, the young woman stood back up and admired her work.

The tomato plant swayed lightly in the wind, its excessive branches lying, ablated, around its trunk. She'd been gone for over a week and the plants in her garden had, of course, grown considerably out of hand.

She sighed softly and moved over to the next tomato plant that stood proudly and resolutely, as hairy as any bush. For this work, she wielded a hand-crafted two-edged blade that she kept as sharp as a razor. It was a hundred times more precise than any cutter or pair of scissors and guaranteed that the cuts she made to her plants healed rapidly and cleanly. She set to work again, silent and concentrated.

Around her, the wind played absently in the high pines and leafy trees, barely lifting the veil of heat that the blazing sun was crushing down on the world. She'd had the area around her home cleared as to be able to enjoy the sunlight and grow a garden, but it also caused the heat to stay trapped and stagnated in the summer… it was unfortunate, but a fair price to pay for the peace it brought her. There were miles of forest around her in every direction, a single dirt road barely large enough for her car to slip through was the only way in or out of her haven.

She didn't want to be bothered, not here. As such, she'd erased the place from every record. It had not been easy work, as she'd had to have it built: the contractors needed an address, a name, a person to bill… but she was ahead of them. She'd assumed one of her many identities and had the place constructed, the money to pay for it passing through some shmuck's account as to vanish from hers. Then, every electronic record of the place, every bill, every delivery, was changed.

She wasn't half bad with computers: she could hack and program. So she'd hacked and programmed into the very records of the State of New York and made the place vanish: it simply did not exist anymore, but if anyone tried to find or buy the plot of land on which her home was hidden, they'd been informed it was zoned privately but not for sale or exploited.

Her pay from the work she'd done in the past few years had assured her she could now live with peace at mind. The things she'd done… the things she'd done were nigh unmentionable… there was little she hadn't been hired to do in the world of crime and death. She was renowned as the person to contact when no one else wanted the job. Of course, she was also known as the best person for most cases where precision, discretion and violence were needed. For those reasons she'd come to gradually ask for higher and higher amounts for the jobs she was asked to do.

Truth be told, she could never lift a blade again in her life and she would be able to live to a ripe old age, tending her lovely, recluse home and garden without even worrying for a moment about finances… and so, one could wonder why on earth she kept accepting new contracts…

It was with a light smirk playing on her lips that she would have answered that question: she _loved_ what she did.

She wouldn't stop for the world.

(0)

Loki paced the throne room like a caged animal. It was very much unlike him, even more unlike Odin, who he was supposed to be impersonating to a fault.

The god forced himself to stop and breathe in slowly. If anyone should see him in this state, it could arise suspicion. It had been quite some time since he'd successfully usurped his false father's throne by stealing his appearance and although no one seemed to have noticed a thing, he could never be too careful.

But right now, it was hard to stay calm. Moments ago, an out-of-breath young courier had barged into the throne room, announcing that Heimdall was on his way with grave news. Loki had reinstated the guardian as protector of the Bifrost when he managed to assure himself the eternal loyalty of his subject and when he had made sure that he couldn't see past his illusion of Odin. He'd woven spells of great power to put his weakened father into a state of ever-sleep and hide him in his old cell down in the dungeons. It had been long, hard work, but if it was able to deceive someone as powerful and all-seeing as Heimdall, it meant it was well done.

However, Loki couldn't help but worry: what if his magic had faltered? What if Heimdall had seen something, a chink in his charade? Surely that couldn't be…

The god forced himself to walk up the stairs to the throne and sit in it. He assumed a comfortable position, although his mind kept racing and his heart was beating fast. He took another few breaths and exhaled slowly.

It mattered little, in truth: if he'd been discovered, he would have to fight and he knew himself strong enough to get out of Asgard alive. With those thoughts in mind, he waited for the all-seeing Heimdall.

The dark-skinned asgardian chose that moment to push past the heavy doors to the golden hall and stride in confidently. Loki noted the look of consternation and the rapidity of the god's stride… whatever tiding he brought were indeed urgent ones.

"All-father." Heimdall bowed down low as he reached the foot of the stairs that lead to the throne. He rose with as much grace. "I bring… grave news."

"So I hear. What troubles you, my friend?" Loki's voice did not waver and he was glad of it. If the other asgardian was about to reveal him, he would have brought backup… which was not the case.

"I've been watching the realms, as if my duty, and I believe I have stumbled upon something of importance… although I cannot… I doubt what I have seen…"

Loki's eyebrows rose slightly: Heimdall, doubting his all-sight? This was new… and intriguing…

"Explain yourself."

Heimdall seemed, for the first time in what may have been aeons, lost for words. Loki gave him a moment to gather his thoughts, all the while relieved it was not apparently after his subterfuge that the guardian was investigating.

"There has been, for loss of a better term, a force. I believe I have sensed it before, but I cannot be sure, for it was ages past and aeons in between. But I have felt it stir once more and this time it was greater than I have ever believed it to be."

A moment of silence passed.

"A… force?" Loki asked, frowning. At least he was definitely not onto his illusion of Odin…

"Aye. Unlike anything I have ever felt before. It was not great in power, but it stretched far in its reach." Heimdall acquiesced.

"I believe you have lost my comprehension…"

Heimdall did not let him finish. "Forgive me all-father, I find this difficult to explain. I do not know what it is. And I do not know where it comes from. That is what concerns me most: not because I cannot trace it, but because it appears to come from everywhere at once. And it also seems to come from nowhere at all. I was a mere ripple, but I sensed a storm. It was a split moment of existence, but I could tell it had only stirred. It was power beyond anything I could have imagined…"

Loki stared at him, lost for words. Mechanically, he brought his hand to his face and rubbed his illusion of a beard as he had seen his false father do a hundred thousand times… what was he to do of this information? Finally, he spoke up.

"Is it a threat to Asgard, or any other realm?"

Heimdall considered this carefully. "Not as of yet, I believe. But as I do not know what it is, I cannot know if it can be used or swayed."

"Is there no more you can tell me? Perhaps the scholars could find something of the sort in the books…"

The asgardian shook his head slowly, but suddenly stopped. "Aye, one thing: I felt it fill the void of the galaxy as it moved. It was in every world all at once, as if it connected them all, like a bridge."

"A bridge between worlds… such as Bifrost?"

"Nothing like Bifrost. It was not a structure. It was a force."

Loki sat back and started at Heimdall. A long moment of silence passed between the men as they both thought intently about what this meant.

"I suppose nothing more can be done of this for the present moment." Loki finally said, reluctantly. He would have wished for more information on the subject. "I'll ask you to regain your post upon Bifrost and keep a sharp eye open for any more such stirrings. If at all possible, seek for the source of this… force. All I can provide for the time being is to ask the scholars to search the tomes and scrolls for information regarding a second bridge between worlds. Perhaps they'll stumble upon something of interest."

Heimdall bowed low again. "I thank you, all-father. Forgive me for such little detail on the matter."

Loki simply waved the apology aside as the guardian turned and strode back out of the hall. The god waited for the heavy doors to shut behind the asgardian before clearing his throat.

"Jora?" He called.

A lovely young woman slipped from behind the throne, where she'd been standing perfectly still and silent.

"My king?" She bowed next to him with grace that was almost unbecoming of a simple errand girl. Loki barely registered her, brow furrowed in consternation.

"You heard what Heimdall spoke of. Rush to the Great Library a once and inform the scholars that I demand they start immediate search for any mention of a force that connects the worlds… other than Bifrost, that is. Anything of interest is to be brought to my chambers at once and I am to be informed of it. Am I clear?"

"Of course, my king."

"Go, then."

The girl rose with the grace of a flying bird and took off in quiet, rapid steps. Loki waited for her to vacate the area as well before he spoke a final time.

"Kerra?"

This time a woman appeared out of thin air next to the throne and bowed down with the same delicacy as the errand girl before her. Upon her entrance, Loki acknowledged her presence with a slight smirk. Kerra Wolfang was a powerful mage that had been in his false father's service for centuries: when Loki had ascended the throne in his stead, she'd pierced through his illusion with absurd rapidity and had rapidly united her cause to his. In her eyes, Odin had long since grown stale and boring, shunning magic as a lesser power and neglecting the mages. Loki, with his fascination for the dark arts, had brought a more interesting turn to her existence. As such, she'd worked for him gladly ever since, perfecting his powerful illusion as Odin and making sure he stayed in power.

"What may I do for you, my king?" There was always a slight laugh in her voice when she spoke, as though she was amused by every event, laughing at a joke only she understood. Loki adored that about her: that arrogant amusement translated fantastically into the bed chamber, where she toyed and played so very, very well with his body…

"I trust you didn't miss a word of what Heimdall said?"

She rose and sat daintily on the throne's armrest, inches away from him but careful not to come in contact with him. She knew he longed to touch her… and he knew she was playing with him.

"I'd be quite the awful spy-mage if I had."

"Then you know what I'll ask of you."

A smirk drew her full lips as her reddish eyes sparked, ever teasing. Loki held that gaze and wondered for a moment if he could afford the risk of bending her over the armrest right here and now to fuck her, when anyone could catch them… And by the way her smirk grew, revealing pearly teeth, he understood she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"I'll ask the mages at once to begin their search of anything resembling what he mentioned. Although I have never heard of anything of the sort in all my years of studying the darkest of magic…"

"Perhaps it is not magic, then."

"Perhaps." She rose gently, biting her lip. "Perhaps it is only a waste of your time."

Loki followed her hungrily with his eyes. "I know of at least one thing that isn't a waste of my time."

"Oh?" She grinned. "Then I'll find you tonight and you can tell me all about that…"

With that, she vanished and the god knew she was off to see her mage friends. That playful arrogance was at least good for one thing: he was no longer so worried about Heimdall's news. Maybe Kerra was right… it could simply be nothing of importance.

(0)

The young woman chucked the last of the dried-up, dead vines that had once been cucumber plants over the fence to her garden and into the forest beyond. One specific genetic of them kept dying on her year after year and it irked her beyond words: she kept getting caught up in work at the very time of year when summer was hottest, during which time the plant suffered from the draught and died out. Which was very frustrating, as it gave the best cucumbers for pickling… she glared at the cracked vine that lay on a bush on the edge of the forest and sighed before moving on and picking the remaining vegetables that weighted down the growing vines heavily.

At that moment, she felt a vibration from deep within her right ear and she stood up immediately.

" _Sorry to bother you, m'am._ " A voice spoke up clearly within her ear. The young woman was glad she'd had the transmission device modified to vibrate before receiving a message: having her bionic ear-drum suddenly create sound was startling to say the least… she'd had no choice but to have one implanted after her own eardrum had been irrevocably destroyed after a close encounter with a grenade… Turning it into a transmitter was her own idea and she loved it.

"What is it, Art?" She asked. The transmitter used the vibrations of her voice within her cranial and jaw bone to decode what she was saying. The only issue with that set-up was that she had to talk with a normal voice to be understood: whispering didn't cut it.

" _You asked me to stay on the lookout for any events organized by the Avengers, specifically by mister Tony Stark. Well, he just issued a small invitation to a few select individuals for tonight at his tower in New York._ " Art's pleasant, feminine voice was just barely punctuated by a robotic accent. The young woman had worked hard to acquire the programming necessary to make her personal assistant sound as human as possible, but the technology for that was still limited. Tony Stark presently held the most advanced version with his invention of Jarvis and Friday, but hacking his system was risked and probably impossible, as she simply wasn't that good with computers.

So she'd managed with whatever she could steal from researchers around the world. The result was ARTEMIS, or Art for short, which stood for Advanced Robotic Transmitter Engine with Monitoring Insight System. A lot of words that meant one thing and one thing only: Art was the only thing the woman could trust in this world. She created this A.I. with the help of an old friend to manage her calls, her banking accounts, to blur her transmissions, seek information and hack accounts. Since Art was an A.I., even a basic one, she slowly changed as she evolved to better suit her human's needs. She still had her limitations, though… but that could change after tonight, if the young woman were to make it into the Stark Tower.

"Good to hear. What time is this scheduled?" The woman was already striding towards the house, hitting her boots on the ground harshly to remove the dirt caught beneath.

" _T minus six hours, m'am._ _You have plenty of time to get ready and drive to it._ "

"And can you get me on the invitation list? Or will I have to slip in some other way?"

" _It is impossible for me to hack into the Friday system, but I did take the liberty of withholding one of the invitee's emails. That of a young woman._ "

The young woman smiled, entering the house and removing her boots. She took the stairs up towards the master bedroom and bathroom, intent on showering the day's sweat off.

"Any chance someone will notice I'm not her?"

" _She is very little known amidst the other guests. The best I can manage under the circumstances is a modification of her picture to match yours, but you will have to take her name and information._ "

"Done. So what's my name for the night, Art?"

" _Gabrielle Fosoway. You are the assistant of one of the primary share-holders of the Stark Industries company; his name is Harold Herving. His invitation email has also been withheld and I have taken the liberty of answering in his name that he shall not be attending, but his assistant will. Does this suit you, m'am?_ "

"Excellent, Art. Send me some info on the road and forward some viable I.D. to my phone. I'll play the girl who forgot her physical I.D. at home."

" _Done._ "

Art fell silent and the young woman stepped into the blazing-hot shower, enjoying the warmth of the water as it rushed over her skin. She'd wanted in to the Stark tower to find a way to hack the systems, but she was also very intrigued by the Avengers themselves. She was not one to limit herself from doing anything and everything she desired, so she was planning on letting loose and seeing exactly where it led her.

No harm in having a bit of fun while on the job, was there?

(0)

Well that's it for now. I think I'll start of the next chapter right away. I feel like writing.

Review please! let me know what you think.


	2. Home invasion

Well here goes

(0)

Under the temporary name of Gabrielle Fosoway, the young woman drove rapidly towards the city of New York. She'd showered and dressed, selecting a very sexy, fitting black dress adorned with glittering stones around the revealing neckline. The bottom stopped quite high up her thighs and, coupled with very high heels, put her long legs in valor. She's drawn her long brown hair high up into a sort of bun, a few wild strands running carefully free. Her makeup was discrete but precise, giving her a feral, predatory allure… Everything about her attire was simply how she was, how she functioned: she knew what made people react to her and she knew how to use that to her advantage. For the night, she had selected a look that was discrete but would draw the male eye (and who knows, perhaps the female eye as well), but she would not stand out more than necessary.

After all, before she could start having any fun, she would have to find where to plug in the USB device a friend of hers had created for her: it contained a new generation of virus that would allow Artemis to hack into Friday very discreetly, giving her a foothold in the Stark Tower. Which could mean access to incredible technology and new information… if Art could successfully hack the system, there was a possibility should could update herself to an AI of Friday's caliber… which would mean better usage for her human.

The centre console of her brand-new black Honda Civic was linked to Art, who had forwarded some necessary information for the woman to review as she drove. She scrolled through the text absently, easily memorising everything she saw.

Before any of… this… she'd been classified as a genius. She was studying to become a veterinary, having turned down the possibility to go as a medical doctor. She simply didn't like human contact enough to want to help people. Especially sick ones. Then, as she liked to put it, the shit storm had hit the fan.

It was unfortunate events that led her from her chosen path into the one of crime. And not just any crime… where some started small in the world of mafias and bikers, she started by murdering a man.

And she didn't stop. She kept going, contract after contract, executing her work with terrifying coldness. The most frightening thing in all of it was how much she enjoyed what she did… how she realised that she finally felt alive, with purpose, when she did unspeakable horrors… but those were not thoughts she wanted to dwell on.

She had to focus on getting into that tower, setting up the USB and then enjoying a well-deserved evening of fun amidst people who had no inkling as to who she was. Being a ghost was one of her favorite things.

 _Gabrielle Fosoway. 27 years of age, only a year older than I am… Has been working for Harold Herving for a grand total of two weeks. Previous assistant left without notice, but the old fuck has been trying to keep sexual harassment a secret… thanks Art… hmm, he's paying the girl to keep quiet, great… hope no one else knows about this, I don't want to have to get into this subject…_ she was impressed with Art's research. The AI might be limited in the hacking and linguistics department, but she was great at finding details online. _Other than that, I live on 1456 B, 43_ _rd_ _avenue, Brooklyn, born august 2_ _nd_ _1988, parents live upstate, run the local tavern and yada-yada…_

She had an excellent memory, it was all stored in there. She doubted anyone would question her thoroughly, but it was best to have all the details. Besides, she found it easier to impersonate people when she knew everything about them… and she'd impersonated people _a lot._

She had various identities she used to travel the world. Somewhere in her belongings lay Russian, Polish, American, Italian, French and German passports. And, of course, a Canadian one, seeing as she was truthfully from Canada. Then again, she had another Canadian passport with a different name, but she held on to her real one as more of a keepsake. She'd taken care to erase her true self from existence after… those unfortunate events had sprung up in her life. When it became clear there was no going back to her normal life, the woman had called upon the help of a same friend who programmed Art to help her end her existence… on file, that is. She filed all the necessary papers to be considered dead, going as far as creating medical files that spoke of a stress-related heart attack. Once everything was ready, she cut all ties now and forever with her remaining family members and fiancé and never looked back.

Something in the coldness of her calculated move had made even her boss back then cringe; and he was a man who'd seen and done some frightful things. But she was pragmatic: it was what made her good at what she did. She knew very well why she'd entered the life of crime… from the moment her decision was made, she knew there was no looking back.

And so a new life had begun for Alexia Roy.

(0)

Of course, it wouldn't be New York without the traffic… she was not a particularly patient driver, but that was not what motivated her choice of parking her car in an underground garage before rejoining the street and calling a cab: Gabrielle Fosoway didn't own a car, much less a brand new Civic. Therefore, Alexia also didn't have a vehicle.

The brief appearance she made on the street turned heads: men gaped slightly and women stared at her long legs as she gracefully hailed a cab. There was something about her that was truly magnetic: she was tall, and evenly proportioned. Years upon years of training in various martial arts to perfect her fighting and 'work' techniques had chiseled her body into curves as hard as stone. Her face was fair, but not exceptional: gentle features and even tones. It seemed to be a combination of all these discreet details that formed a whole the world found very attractive, but sometimes she felt as though there was more to it: when she entered a room and wanted everyone to notice her, they did. She felt their interest like a connection to her being, shifting to her will… but if she wanted to remain a shadow, she could enter that same room and no one would care. In those moments, it felt as though a veil barred her from the world and she could stride without attracting particular attention to herself. It was a strange feeling, one that bordered on being imagined: she often wondered if it wasn't all in her mind.

It would be time to test that particular theory again when she arrived at the Stark tower.

The cab worked through the traffic and tightly packed streets, the driver stealing interested glances at his passenger, but remaining silent. In her hand she loosely held a small purse that contained only her phone and 500$ in cash, which she thought was more than enough for an evening on the town. She'd left luggage and ID behind in her car.

They cut in front of a truck that blared its horn and finally pulled into the street that led to the tower.

Alexia glanced out the window and couldn't help but gape at the formidable structure: it was indeed very impressive and she couldn't wait to see what lay inside. Knowing Stark, it was probably fabulously decorated…

She paid the cab driver his fare and flashed him a gorgeous grin. The man sputtered and gaped, lost for words as he simply nodded goodbye. She loved it when people lost their wits because of her.

Gracefully balanced on her high heels, she strode confidently up the stairs towards the tower base. As she approached the front door, which was guarded by several big men dressed in black suits, she slowed her pace and adjusted the sway of her hips.

 _Magnetic_. She thought to herself and smiled seductively. Immediately, the men's gazes turned to her, as if she had called them by name. She saw each and every one of them shift slightly and for a moment almost burst out laughing: any more of this and she wouldn't even need to be Gabrielle to get into the tower.

"Good evening. I'm here on mister Stark's invitation." Her tone was laden with playfulness.

One of the men, the one holding a tablet computer, cleared his throat and looked at her carefully.

"Name."

"Gabrielle Fosoway." She didn't skip a beat, biting her lip gently and smiling anew. The cleared his throat again and checked his tablet.

"Are you alone tonight?"

"Yes. I was supposed to accompany mister Herving, but he was indisposed, so he sent me alone in his stead."

The man nodded. "So it says here. Please, right this way."

He gestured behind him and another man nodded awkwardly at her, inviting her to follow him inside. The girl was amused: she hadn't even needed a piece of ID. If she'd known getting in here was so easy, she'd have come a long time ago. He guided her though an immense, empty hall and towards the elevators at the far end, where he pressed the button to go up.

When the elevator arrived, he simply stepped in, used a key to activate it so it would go up to the penthouse, and stepped out. Alexia moved past him like a shadow, gently touching his arm as she passed. The brief smile she flashed him destabilized him and they parted when the doors closed between them and he stood there, mouth agape.

She was glad for this moment alone.

"I'm going to need some guidance tonight…" She sighed to herself. She knew Friday was probably listening to her, so she chose her words carefully.

" _I was able to find plans to the building, but they might be out-dated. There appears to be a lab of some sort where he works with computer programming. If you can insert the USB in one of the computers there, it should be able to connect the virus to the main system. Keep your phone close, I can blur our transmission from Friday with signals from it."_

Alexia stayed impassive, but she was glad to have Art to guide her.

The elevator slowed to a stop and the doors slid open with a ding. Immediately, the sound of laughter, talking and glasses clanking reached her ears as she stepped out into a fairly busy living area. It was indeed fabulously furnished: designer leather couches, abstract art and marble from the floors to the ceiling… Stark did not disappoint. Even as she walked in and felt people's attention shift to her, she focused on veiling herself.

 _Vanish_. She'd never questioned this odd ability. Whether it was imagined or real, it was certainly useful. It seemed to affect her memory and reflexes at times as well, but Alexia had always been a believer in sixth senses. Whatever it was that allowed her to act on the world around her, it was mysterious and impossible to grasp.

Gazes flew over her like birds; none of them stopped. People acknowledged her, but immediately forgot about her. She smiled discreetly and observed them in turn: she saw many that she did not know or recognize, but amongst them stood the very familiar Avengers.

Near the bar, laughing and chatting, was the new Avenger girl, Wanda Maximoff. She was speaking with the strange being that was Vision, who, even dressed in ordinary clothes, did not fail to attract attention. Natasha Romanoff joined them, followed by the lesser known Sam Wilson. Standing with some old war veterans on the other side of them room was the very attractive Steve Rogers. Making quite the ruckus as he spoke and gestured, Tony Stark occupied the centre of the room with his friend James Rhodes, having attracted a fair crowd of people.

The woman had had a fascination with the Avenger team ever since Tony Stark started to go around calling himself Iron Man. Over the years, she had compiled information about them and studied them out of pure fascination. Recent events in Sokovia had expanded the team, and she took care of learning about the newest members as well.

There were no other members of the team present, so Alexia assumed they wouldn't be coming. Seeing how there were many people in the room, she also figured she was one of the last people to arrive.

The bar was laden with alcohol and the party seemed to be in full swing. Now was the best time to strike, before integrating the crowd like the ghost she was.

" _You're going to have a problem. Friday can follow your moves, she has cameras everywhere. If you seem out of place, she'll alert Stark at once._ " Art piped up in the woman's ear. With all the noise, she'd barely felt the vibration that signaled an incoming message and she had to supress a cringe.

Moving slowly, careful not to attract attention, the girl slipped onto a bar stood and gestured the tender for a drink. As soon as his back was turned, she answered Art, hiding her mouth as she spoke.

"Anything you can do about that?"

" _I can attempt a hack through a foreign IP address the very moment you go to insert the USB key. But she'll notify Stark the moment you enter the computer room. All I can offer is a possible blur to the camera recording your moves at that moment and the possibility that the hacking distraction will pull her attention away._ "

"I can handle Stark. Give me that moment."

" _Understood._ "

The bar tender brought her a Cosmo, bright and strong and she knocked it back in a single, long gulp. He didn't even look twice at her, moving away to serve Wanda and company at the other end of the bar.

Alexia stood and walked off like a shadow, concentrating on being invisible. Of course, people saw her but it was as though she ceased existing the moment their eyes left her. Besides, they were enjoying themselves too much in the exclusive company of the great Avengers.

(0)

" _Up the stairs and to the right. Follow the path and count the doors. Fourth one on the left will be the lab._ "

The woman moved as rapidly as she dared, trying to look as though she was searching for the bathroom. She held her empty glass in one hand and her purse in the other, looking around herself with mild interest. She turned a corner and started to count the doors. One. Two. Three. Four.

It was glass, but the room beyond it was dark. Alexia grasped the handle and simply prayed it would be unlocked. She could easily lock pick anything, given the time, but time was a leisure she did not have and there would be no justifying breaking into a room to Stark…

She pushed and the door slid into the wall with a hiss, effortlessly. She suppressed a sigh and entered, looking around curiously as the lights came on automatically.

" _She has alerted Stark. 4 seconds to incoming hack._ "

Alexia moved forward, observing the environment with sharp eyes, even though it looked as though she was only mildly interested. She didn't dare move with rapidity and precision until Art gave her the green light. However, she had spotted a computer towards the back that was running and slightly sideways: she could see the empty USB ports in the back, but if she could tilt it slightly, they would become hidden.

" _Beginning hack…_ "

The woman took a few more steps, waiting for a confirmation that she was good to go.

" _The hack is not diverting her attention and I cannot blur the cameras. I recommend you abort the mission."_ Art said briskly.

Alexis' heart nearly skipped a beat.

 _Fuck that._ She snarled interiorly. She wasn't going to back up now; she decided to act.

The rest went as smooth as sailing: she tilted her ankle slightly, losing her balance. From the height of her heels, the fall was considerable. This propelled her very close to the computer, but during her very brief moment in the air, her hands moved like lightening and leapt to her cleavage, from where deft fingers pulled out the USB key. In one incredibly luckily calculated move, she managed to outstretch her hand far enough to insert the key into the computer's port and push the machine slightly to hide her actions, all just before hitting the floor.

That was some magic right there.

Stark chose that very instant to barge into the room, and her gaze immediately flew to him, piercing and intense as it had never been before.

 _MAGNETIC_. She projected that thought as she had never before and she thought she saw him stumble slightly from it.

Then her face changed and she adorned it with a confused, embarrassed look while the man in the door way struggled to regain his composure, mouth opening and closing several times.

"I'm so sorry, I…" She started to pick herself up.

He seemed to wake up and strode forward at once. "What are you doing in here?"

She bit her lip and looked at him almost fearfully. His eyes softened and he reached out to help her stand, his strong arms lifting her easily.

"Well, I _was_ looking for a bathroom, but then I kind of got curious and I'm really sorry, I didn't mean… I must have had too much to drink, I…" She gazed in embarrassment at the shattered glass that lay nearby on the floor.

Stark shook his head and looked amused. "You've only have one drink."

She answered with a playful grin. "I'll be honest, I started before I got here. Like, a while before I got here."

He took a moment to look her up and down and honestly, she didn't mind: she was doing the same to him. He was even more attractive in person than he was in the magazines and on TV… there was a sort of animal lustfulness that arose from his every move, not to mention the very fascinating intelligence that shone behind his eyes. She found herself smiling knowingly and biting her lip slightly as he looked at her and he returned the little smirk. Stark offered her his arm to take, gesturing towards the door.

"How about we go keep drinking and I get to know you a little better?"

Alexia nodded and took his arm. She felt a slight electric charge run between them at the contact… that little charge that usually meant they would have some pretty good times in bed, should they chose to take their situation to that level.

And from the amused look Stark gave her, she could tell he was thinking something similar.

Her ear vibrated and Art piped up.

" _The virus has begun downloading and Friday remain unaware of it. Mission complete_."

This evening was just getting better and better.

(0)

Okay, if I don't stop now I'm never gonna go to bed. Please review!


	3. Forget the vodka

Don't forget to review, my friends! I really appreciate any constructive criticism, it will help me shape future chapters.

I'm adding the next little paragraph in italic in this chapter because it just come to me, but it will also be added to chapter 1, where it truly belongs!

Here we go!

(0)

 _Her heart ached. How she missed him._

 _Of course, she would never admit it. But he knew. He'd always known._

 _After what she did to save him, to protect him… the path she walked down fearlessly just to have him safe… even though he would never be hers and she knew it._

 _It hadn't stopped her. It hadn't even slowed her down._

 _An outsider looking at the situation would have never understood. What were they to one another? Friends? Lovers? Something less?_

 _But she knew. And he knew. They'd always known._

 _He was her other half, forever destined to never be hers. And she was his other half, forever destined to never be his._

 _And when the only way to save him was to destroy herself, she didn't stop._

 _She didn't even slow down._

(0)

Alexia escorted Stark back to the party, finally letting loose a bit. Her gaze changed, becoming more amused and there was a certain swagger to her steps. She had to admit that walking arm in arm with Tony Stark had a certain… charm to it. He kept glancing sideways at her, a little smirk playing with the corner of his mouth, but she pretended not to notice.

When they reached the top of the stairs that looked down in the large living area where everyone was having fun, all eyes flew up to them at once. Women looked to Tony and men immediately focused on her.

She felt it at once: that connection she was used to sensing when she wanted or denied attention to a crowd… it was almost like she could whisper to each and every one of them privately, all at once. It had always felt so vague, but tonight, perhaps after the rush of having to get that USB key in place, it felt a hundred times more real.

So, of course, she decided to play with it. It was harmless anyways, wasn't it? More like a pretend game she liked to imagine for herself than a real, actual thing, right?

She drew on that connection, calling it to her. A gentle smirk twisted the corner of her mouth and she gazed at the crowd beneath them with eyes that sparkled maliciously. Every eye shifted to her, suddenly and irrevocably. It was almost as though they were mesmerized… the ambient noise quieted down and for a moment, it was as though she could feel each and every heart beat in the room, each and mind connected, as though they were all one. Single. Being…

"Holy shit Stark, where did you pull that vixen out of?" A loud, rambunctious voice bellowed from the crowd and it was almost like her connection with the room snapped audibly…

The guests erupted in laughter and Alexia blinked, the magic gone.

Perhaps it was no more than her imagination, then. She liked to think there was something guiding her, protecting her at times… but it was a ridiculous thought.

Tony pulled her closer to whisper in her ear and his breath sent a pleasant shiver down her spine as it tickled her neck. "You are rather stunning, he's not wrong. But I'd rather not tell him I found you lying on the floor, he might go looking for another one like you in the tower."

If he thought she'd blush, he had that wrong. "There are no others like me. Not here and not anywhere."

With that she moved past him, taking his hand to guide him down the steps.

"I might have to ask you to prove that to me somehow." He added as an afterthought, following the stunning creature down the steps to rejoin the party.

They integrated the group effortlessly and she introduced herself as the assistant of one of his shareholder, honestly he didn't even register which one. The bar tender brought them drinks and he saw her knock back Cosmos like they were water, just like he'd briefly seen her do when she first arrived. The alcohol seemed to have little to no effect on her, as she remained placid, vaguely amused, her stance never wavering and her voice never stuttering.

The conversation moved away from her and everyone kept on telling stories, laughter erupting again and again, especially when Rhodes shared various stories about his missions as War Machine… Tony had heard each and every one of those a thousand times and more, so he just nodded and smiled at appropriate moments, his attention mostly focused on the young woman. She noticed, but didn't seem to mind or care, participating discreetly in the conversations around her.

There was something about her that was different. A sort of magnetism that wasn't just because of her fairly flattering physique. He'd felt something behind those light-brown eyes when he first crossed them as she lay in the computer room after her stumble… he really hoped she wasn't snooping, because that would mean he'd have to kick her out. And he didn't really want her to leave tonight…

Tony eventually excused himself to go to the little boy's room, leaving the group like a ghost. But he also used that moment have a quick chat with Friday.

"Hey Friday." He spoke up as he emptied his bladder in the master bathroom.

" _Sir?_ "

"Can you run a background check on the girl…"

" _Gabrielle Fosoway, sir_?"

"That one."

" _What would you like to know about her?_ "

"Anything out of the ordinary, I supposed. Has she attempted murder on a previous lover, has she ever been hired to steal company information, how long has she worked for what's his name…"

" _Harold Herving, sir_."

"Yeah…"

" _None of the ordinary about her. She's a young woman who studied in marketing in Harvard and had very good scores. She has no criminal record or accusation. She passed the psychology screening test for mister Herving with excellent scores and has been in his assistant for two weeks, taking up the post of his previous assistant, who left without warning. Has not been late to work a day in her life._ "

"Hm… might consider hiring her instead of Pepp…" But he stopped his sentence and shook his head. He didn't want to think about Pepper now. They'd had a nasty falling out after the Sokovia incident, when she saw clear as day that he'd kept playing with his suits and tried to create Ultron to protect the world… which he had sworn he wouldn't do…

He deserved her anger. It didn't make him feel any better knowing it, though…

He needed another drink.

Tony walked out of the bathroom and made his way back to the living room. The party seemed to have died down a bit: several people had left and the large group had split into small ones. The evening's tones had gone down to something calmer and he suddenly felt much more… tiered.

He spotted the girl sitting at the bar, leaning her back on it and facing the rooms with those endless legs crossed. Everything about her was provocative, from that taunting little grin to the way her eyes sparkled as she stared right at him from across the room.

And just like that, he wasn't tiered anymore.

Stark strode over to her and leaned on the bar, gesturing to the tender, who rushed over.

"How about a few shots before we take this some place more… private…" He proposed.

"How about we take the shots somewhere more private?"

"You know what?" He nodded at her amusement. "I really like the way you think."

He reached over the bar and grabbed the bottle of vodka form the slightly distraught tender's hands, before circling an arm around the woman's waist to guide her towards her bedroom. Touching her made him appreciate how hard her body was under that tight dress… she probably worked out something fierce to keep herself in shape like that. But she followed him with surprising grace and he couldn't help but be reminded of some sort of feline predator…

If people noticed them leaving, they made no mention of it. They'd seen Tony cart countless girls off to his room during innumerable parties… this was nothing out of the ordinary, although Wanda and the Vision needed to be reassured by Natasha, as they hadn't been privy to Tony's antics yet…

(0)

She'd been impressed by the living area, with its marble floors and walls and fine pieces of art adorning every corner… but the master bedroom was a whole new level of amazement. She couldn't help but gape slightly as she took in her surroundings: the colors were light and pale, everything pulling towards a clean, modern look. The floor was dark hardwood, but thick, plush carpets covered certain areas; they looked as though they might be comparable to walking on clouds. There was a fireplace on one wall with designer sofas facing it and a custom-made bed in the far end of the room, considerably larger and longer than a king size… it was covered with thick, luxurious covers and many pillows, giving the room an air of warmth that clashed and simultaneously agreed with the modern aspect. There was a crystal chandelier, for crying out loud, and as they entered, its light dimmed slightly to set a more intimate ambiance. At the far end of the room, beyond the bed, the wall was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a splendid view of city, shining brightly in the night.

Alexia lacked for nothing with all the money she'd made over the years, but this sort of luxury was still beyond what she could ever think of getting for herself.

Her eyes widened when she saw the painting over the fire place.

"That's a really good impression of Starry Night…" She smiled as she walked up to it, her heels clicking on the floor.

"That's no impression."

Her smile actually faltered, replaced by disbelief as she turned around gracefully. Stark was leaning against the door frame, smirking as he took a long swing of vodka directly from the bottle and grimaced slightly at the taste.

She could tell he wasn't joking. That was actually Starry Night by Van Gogh. The real deal. She glanced at it and her smile returned, more devious than ever.

"Huh… I feel we really need to honor such a great painting by you licking vodka off my tits, don't you?"

Tony was in the process of taking another swing when he processed those words and he promptly chocked on his gulp and came up coughing, staring at the woman with some disbelief. She stayed impassive, but after a moment her smirk grew and amusement shone brightly in those fiery eyes.

"Where have you been all my life?" Tony demanded as he walked towards her, his own grin growing as he stared at her with a certain amount of amazement.

She threw her purse aside, on the couch, and kept her eyes lock on his, her small smirk never vanishing. He reached her and stopped mere inches away, setting the bottle of vodka down on the low table next to them.

With Stark in such proximity to her, she could feel her own blood heating up… there was a tingle all over her skin as she waited patiently for him to touch her… it was almost unbearable and she moved her gaze away from his only to watch his hand rise, slowly, tantalizingly, to run rough fingers over her arm and to her shoulder. The touch made goose prickles rise all over her skin.

His fingers trailed her collar bone and came to rest under her chin, raising it so their gazes crossed.

"You have stunning eyes, you know that?" Stark said gently.

Alexia bit her lip with a soft grin. "They're brown, Mister Stark."

"I'd ask you to call me Tony, but somehow you make mister Stark sound so much more fun."

She moved closer, all grace and precision and pressed her lips to his. He tasted like vodka and pleasure and he found she was all sweet and spicy and a touch of fire…

His hand left her chin to tangle itself in her hair and pull her closer. She loved the feeling of his fingers pulling her mane and her loose bun quickly came undone as their kisses hardened and became more insistent. His tongue pressed to her lips and she let it in gladly, hands grabbing his shoulders, nails digging into his shirt. She nipped at his lip between two breaths and he groaned, pushing his body against hers. Alexia couldn't help but smirk as she felt his arousal pressing against her.

He broke their kiss and they found themselves panting, eyes shining with lust.

"Rough or gentle?" He asked.

Her teeth flashed under a wolfish grin.

"Rough."

So he grabbed her by the waist and spun her around none too gently. Even with this sudden movement, Tony felt he barely had to stabilize the girl: she pivoted on those heels like a ballerina, betraying no stumble. It should perhaps have struck him as odd, but he was busy with other things and didn't dwell on it.

Her dress was zipped up the back, so he grabbed the zipper and pulled it down quite slowly, enjoying the moment. She bowed her head forward, her loose hair tickling over her bared back and he appreciated the loveliness of her even, soft skin. When the fastener was all the way down, she shrugged the dress off, removing the one, thick strap that had been holding it at her shoulder and letting it slide off her body to the ground. Unsurprisingly, she wore nothing underneath.

"What…" Tony's brow furrowed from incomprehension as he stared, disbelieving, at several pale, swollen marks over her back. Her dress had covered each and every one of those and he understood she'd probably had it made custom for that specific reason… because as he reached out and touched the marks, his fingers felt the odd flesh and he understood they were scars…

And some of them were long and wide…

She let him graze a few, but after a moment, pivoted back around to face him, her face still amused. She seemed unconcerned by the old wounds. Tony noticed another such scar ran lengthily from under her right breast, across her toned belly and to her left hip.

"Those are a story for another day." She scolded him softly and he nodded, his eyes returning to focus on hers. There was no shame or pain there… just lust and deviousness.

He had to admit that no matter those scars, she still looked fantastic. Her body was all muscle, hard and lean and strong… she had curves, yes, but everything about her was incredibly toned and powerful.

So he pulled her close for another heavy kiss. She nipped at his lip again and he groaned, feeling quite strained in his formal pants. It did not help when her hand trailed down to his swollen manhood and rubbed it teasingly through the fabric of his clothes. One of his hands snaked back into her hair to grab a handful, while the other found her lower back and pressed it hard against him, grinding her onto his hard-on.

Alexia moved those deft fingers back up to undo the buttons on his shirt. She didn't fumble with a single one, returning his furious kisses and feeling warmth spread through her lower belly every time the hand in her hair gave a little pull. They'd backed up across most of the room and she felt the edge of the bed against the back of her legs. The buttons of his shirt undone, she pulled it off him with a swift move, taking care to rake her fingernails gently over his arms when she brought them back up.

His pressed her harder to his body and growl against her mouth.

It took her a little moment to break their embrace, as he wasn't keen on letting her go.

"Don't come too fast, now." She warned, her devious grin returning as she pushed him away ever so slightly to get some space. Tony was panting faintly, quite avid to find out what she wanted to do next.

The girl, biting her tongue in a devilish way, undid his belt and pants in a single, swift move of calculated delicacy, never letting her gaze drop from his. Really, if he'd been paying attention, he would have considered it quite a feat. She slipped her hand into his boxers, seizing his hard manhood in a deft hand, while helping him out of his pants. Tony kicked them off, incredibly eager to get out of them.

Then, still grinning, she kneeled down in front of him and very gently took the throbbing head of his cock into her mouth. Tony hissed, throwing back his head, as he grabbed her hair with both hands… but he didn't push or pull her. He'd felt her teeth press onto his manhood as a warning and knew at once she wanted him to let her take of this, at least for now.

She sucked every so gently on the tip, before letting it go and taking a moment to lick up and down the length of his shaft, that smirk still playing with the corner of her mouth. He crossed her gaze and for once in his life, was at a loss for words…

Then, without warning, she took him whole in her mouth, his entire impressive length vanishing into her throat. With long, hungry movements, Alexia moved up and down his manhood, sucking and flicking her tongue. Tony's hands curled into fists in her hair as he groaned and growled with her strokes… she kept careful not to go so fast as to bring him to climax, but moving just enough so that the pleasure kept growing slowly.

But she wanted her own fun out of this, so before it got out of hand, she pulled away with a final, devouring lick. Tony had to hold back a disappointed groan and pout: he'd not often been blown so very pleasurably. Alexia rose slowly to his level, all wolfish smirks and shiny eyes.

"Weren't you supposed to lick vodka off of me?" She questioned with a supressed laugh.

Tony glanced back at the table near the fireplace, which seemed miles away, where the vodka sat, abandoned.

"I can go get it if you really want me to."

She laughed. "We'll save that for another time, how about that?"

He looked back at her, noted the amusement and just pushed her onto the bed. She fell without complaint, still landing with precision and grace like some feline predator, although he was too far gone to notice or care. He climbed on top of her, grabbing her hands and pulling them up over the head. He held them pinned there with one hand while the other snaked down her belly and dove between her thighs, feeling the burning wetness there. She gasped softly, biting her lip as he slipped a finger into her soaking opening, moving gently inside her. A few strokes and he slipped another finger in; she responded with a growl, throwing her head back and bucking her hips up to meet him. Playing her game, he moved his fingers inside her tantalizingly, rubbing her clit with his thumb very slowly, building her pleasure until he felt her on the brink and…

He stopped.

She didn't seem at all surprized, as thought she'd known all along he would be a tease. He reached over her to the bed table and pulled a condom out of the first drawer. Alexia grabbed it out of his hand, fast as a wolf, and had his open and rolled onto his manhood before he even had time to think. He almost felt like questioning her surprizing dexterity, but when she pulled him down harshly for a kiss, he forgot why he even cared…

Again, he pinned her arms above her head none too gently with one hand and brought her hips up to meet his hard cock with the other. It pressed against her opening for a brief moment before pushing into her and she responded with a throaty moan. She curled her legs around him and pulled him closer stroke after stroke, until he was buried within her entirely.

He fucked her roughly, his strokes hard and harsh, but she guided him in his rhythm, groaning and moaning and pleading for more…

It did not take long for her to reach her climax and hiss her pleasure, teeth bared like an animal, her legs holding him in place as her cunt grasped his cock and pulsed pleasure. It brought him over the edge and he came with a long groan, the tension in his body vanishing suddenly as he struggled to stop himself from collapsing onto her.

When he finally felt her relax and her legs undid themselves from around his waist, he rolled of her and collapsed onto his back on the bed, panting.

"Imagine we would have brought the vodka into this!" He exclaimed, for lack of a better comment to make.

She burst out laughing and he glanced at her, enjoying the sound and sight. She really had something special that made her quite lovely.

When her chuckles subsided, she sighed. "You remind me of someone I used to know."

"Friend or foe?"

A soft giggle. "Friend."

"Boyfriend?"

She shook her head, staring up at the ceiling. "No, never. But a very close friend."

He could tell she had no desire to elaborate, so he dropped it. She didn't even ask his permission or opinion, but crawled up the bed, pushing decorative pillows out of the way, until she made it under the covers. Nesting in, she gave him a quizzical look.

"Coming?"

He shrugged. Why the hell not?

And he went to join her, pulling her hard form into his arms and into what felt like one of the most restful nights he'd had in the past few weeks.

(0)

Whee! I had to write this while my dogs farted all around me, so I hope its good! Lol!

Please review!


	4. Wolf

Thank you to those who have reviewed! Don't stop, it's a nice gesture!

 _(0)_

 _She dreamt of him often, as such she knew this was a dream. One she had no desire revisiting… so perhaps it was more of a nightmare…_

 _It was all wrong, because he stood beside her. She knew that in the past, in the real past, he had been very far away from there… but she had imagined him at her side, because it gave her courage and reminded her just why she was standing in such a dangerous place, almost begging for the day to end horribly._

" _You're here for him." The man who spoke frightened her, but it would be a cold day in Hell when she admitted it. His name was Charles. He led this whole macabre horror story._

" _Yes." Even back then, years ago, her voice did not betray her._

" _The situation is… complicated… to say the least. He was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Not much we can do about that."_

" _He worked for you." Her tone was almost accusing. She was painfully aware of the several men around her that were all armed with guns. Who was she to these people? Dust in the wind… she was nothing and could vanish without a trace if they would have it._

 _But she knew something they did not. She did not fear them, or death. She had come here not to bargain, but to deal._

" _So he did. But he walked into a shit storm… one that is not worth for me to deal with."_

" _What if I made it worth for you to deal with?"_

 _A pause. She would always and for ever remember how dark his eyes were. It would be years before they stopped frightening her._

" _I'm listening."_

" _Me for him. And you get him out."_

 _There was laughter around her, but she did not pay attention. The man sitting before her… the only man that mattered… he was not laughing._

" _Of all the time I have known you, all I have to vouch for it is his recommendation. How do I know you are worth my time?"_

 _She leaned closer. "There is nothing I would not do for him."_

 _The man, with his eyes as dark as a starless night stared at her without blinking._

" _If you take his place, you will be bound to me for the next three years. Anything I ask. I will have him freed within the next three months, such is my only guarantee. But I will ask you to do things I would have never asked of him. His debt will be paid and he will be free of me. But you will not be."_

" _Have him freed within the month."_

 _The man was almost amused._

" _So be it. I have glimpsed the darkness in your soul… I know you have potential to rise high and fast to my expectations, as much as you have chances of shattering into a thousand pieces and being unable to handle what is to come… Do you have any idea what you are getting yourself into?"_

 _She leaned forward._

" _I don't care if I have to blow every man in this room, or put a bullet in each of their heads. It's all the same to me. If it means my friend is safe."_

 _In her dream, which she knew was a dream, her friend lay a large hand on her shoulder. She felt the warmth._

 _It broke her heart._

 _(0)_

Alexia awoke as she always did, emerging from her dream without a sound, eyes blinking a few times… she was aware of her surroundings within the instant, taking in and analyzing every minute detail. She felt the softness of the sheets around her… the warmth of the man behind her… the weight of his hand on her shoulder and the pleasant ache between her legs from the night before.

She slipped from his grasp like a shadow, ever so delicate that he did not wake him. She had to admit that Stark had a profound charm that didn't dissipate when he was asleep… if the circumstances had been different, she would have probably stayed in bed with him…

But they were not. She had achieved what she came here to do, which was to get that bloody USB key in place. Then, she'd taken a moment to enjoy the present. It was now quite unfortunately the time to reintegrate her schedule and get the rest of the show on the road.

She realized with some amusement that she had slept in her heels, having never thought of taking them off during the evening. She pulled them off her feet for the time being to avoid making any unnecessary noise and tip-toed to her dress, which lay discarded on the floor. She walked like a shadow, without a sound, picking up her small purse on the way.

With the dress in hand, she walked out noiselessly from the room, choosing to slip into it only one she was out of bedroom. Then, she adored her heels and marched off towards the elevators, the shoes clicking lightly on the marble floor. She pressed the button to go down and slipped in as the doors slid open, selecting the option to go to ground level with a slight smirk on her lips.

She would somewhat miss Stark, after all.

(0)

Alexia knew there was whole level of stigma around the 'walk of shame' of women and men who had one night stands and were forced to walk, dressed in last night's clothes, back home. Truth be told, that mentality had always amused her… as if there was anything wrong with a good, one night fuck with a would-be stranger…

She picked her long hair back up into a bun, but her evening dress was unmistakably out of place on this bright morning, attracting a few stares, so she made it quickly to the street to hail a cab. She guided the cabbie to the underground parking lot where she'd left her car, tipping him handsomely for the rapid ride.

She's taken the time to bring a 'survival pack' with her on the trip. She had spare clothes, into which she changed right there in the parking lot, slipping into jeans, sneakers and a white t-shirt. She brushed her teeth with a travel tooth brush and bottled water and swallowed two pain killers as she started to feel the start of a head ache settle in. Then, she decided it was time to tackle the day.

"Artemis?"

The AI piped up at once.

" _Good morning, m'am_."

"I'm going to have to make a call. Follow me by GPS, I'll go into an internet café. Redirect their IP address and blur me."

" _Of course. You may want to know that you have received two messages last night_."

Alexia got into her car and frowned. Two messages? People were sure eager to spend massive amounts of money…

Art continued, filling the woman in. " _One was from your former employer. I informed him you were unavailable and he asked you contact him as soon as possible. The other was an encrypted mail for a contract._ "

"Where?"

" _Columbia._ "

"Huh…" She figured it was natural. She received contracts from all over the world, from rich asshats in Europe wanting rivals tortured or killed all the way to barbaric war lord in Africa wanting a threat dispersed. There was little she didn't do. She figured the message from Columbia had something to do with the cocaine cartel, seeing as how the country thrived on the sale of that particular drug.

" _It may interest you as well to know that Hydra and AIM have both mobilized research of great secrecy regarding a power of possible alien nature._ "

This made Alexia pause. Alien nature? She'd had Art hack Hydra and AIM systems a while ago with hilarious ease and had been keeping an eye on them in case they found something of interest. As such, she knew Hydra was keeping barely afloat in its war with SHIELD and AIM was still going strong with its enhanced soldier program… she'd been unable to hack SHIELD, however, as they were apparently less retarded when it came to the computerized aspect of their operations.

But the two other organisations gave her plenty of information to keep her up to date on what was going on around the world.

" _It might also be prudent to note that the encrypted message from Columbia would appear to originate from a dormant Hydra agent, although my sources on that matter are unsure._ "

This gave Alexia pause to think as she drove out of the underground lot and onto the busy New York streets. Perhaps it wasn't a drug lord after all… she was definitely curious, but had other priorities to deal with before investigating that particular source.

(0)

First thing first. She parked her vehicle in a paid spot on the street a few corners away from an internet café. Those were a dying breed, which she considered unfortunate. The vast amount of daily users was a nice was to camouflage her own transmissions and she blended in easily with her laptop and steaming coffee, looking like no more than a student doing research or calling home. To top it off, their wifi routers were amusingly easy for Art to hack and change their IP address, redirecting them through far countries and random locations to insure her signal was untraceable.

Which was something of importance when came to the time to contact her hacker friend, who lived in a state of constant paranoia, locked in a dark apartment somewhere in the world, leading a life of nefarious activities on line. He refused direct contact, answered only when he himself had trouble tracing the source of a communication. She'd never actually met the guy, which was disappointing, because he was a brilliant, albeit weird, young man. He'd taught her all she knew about computers, helping her create and program Art and would regularly fill in her orders for various technological gadgets which made her own work much easier. In return for this help, she had eliminated an Interpol agent for him a few years back… the man had been on her friend's trail a long time and was close to catching him… refusing the leave his apartment, the young hacker had reached out to her, surprizing her in his ease to find information about her from sources she had thought untouchable…

He'd assisted her in covering her tracks while searching for the agent, and with his help, she'd managed to locate the man easily and terminate his life. Then, as she was prone to do, she made him vanish. Her hacker friend had promised her any assistance she ever needed, so long as he would live… which she hoped would be at least as long as her.

Alexia's laptop booted in a heartbeat and she sipped her coffee thoughtfully. She put a small Bluetooth device onto her ear, but it remained off, serving only to appear as though she was on the phone… her bionic ear would actually allow her to hear and speak during her communications.

She started up the videochat.

"Art, get Jonathan on the line."

The chat dialed her friend and the connection established itself. Alexia knew that no matter the time of day or night, she would get an answer… Jonathan basically lived within touching distance of his machine.

As expected, after a few seconds of him probably trying to trace the communication which some difficulty, he answered and his ever-tiered face popped up on screen. Alexia had been careful to station herself in a corner, where no one could see who she was talking to.

"Morning, darling." She grinned at him, noting the immediate blush. He was always reddening when talking to her, even after a few years.

"Hey, Alex. Artemis is getting better and better at redirecting her communications, isn't she?" Jonathan rubbed a sleepy eye, his face half-hidden in shadows. He sported no visible accent, although he was clearly of Asian descent and the meagre decorations one could spot behind him were written in what appeared to be Japanese. Alexia had always suspected he was in Japan, but she had never asked or cared.

"You tell me. How have you been, Jonathan?"

"Quite alright, thank you for asking. But I guess you're not just calling to chat. What can I do?"

Alexia smiled. Always to the point, that one.

"Remember that new gen virus you sent me? On the key?" She asked and he looked at her with an eyebrow raised, understanding the rhetorical question. "Well, three tries to guess where it's plugged in."

"Stark tower."

She pouted slightly. "I said three tries…"

"It came online a few hours ago, I've been playing around with it ever since." He was brisk and stiff in his speech. The woman suspected that limited social interaction probably had that effect on people.

"Huh… and any luck?"

He pondered this for a moment. "Well, virus or not, Friday is still a monumental challenge. She's complex and absolutely fascinating and extremely hard to penetrate."

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

At least her tease got her a new blush… she liked playing with the young man, he was adorable.

"I can access Art and start her on integrating the system as well. Truth be told, we need to proceed with caution… if we trip any alarms, Friday will become aware of what's happening and stop us at once. But if we can bypass into her main programing core, I can download her AI to Art and update her into something incredible… from there on, there won't be much she won't be able to do…"

Alexia nodded, still sipping her coffee. "That would be fantastic. But I need to be sure Art is online and functioning over the next few days, Jonathan. I'm going to work and I can't risk proceeding without her to back me up."

This made the young man look somewhat disappointed.

"I understand. It would have been a faster job with Art to help, but I can manage it. When the way is clear, I'll contact Art and let her in."

"Thanks. You're the best." She grinned.

"I know."

He was still blushing furiously when the connection went offline.

She knocked back the rest of her coffee and rose for a second cup. When she returned to her computer, the woman decided to tackle the second point of the day: the encrypted work-related email.

Art pulled it up on screen, working through the encryption to reveal the message.

On the black market, it was possible to contact assassins and spies of all kinds for various types of jobs. She's integrated that world nearly two years ago with the help of her former boss, when there was only one year left to her service to him. By then, she had perfected her technique and domain and had climbed the ranks of the crime world in a rapid, surprising pattern. Apparently unconcerned by the ways things were 'mean to work', the girl had become so lethal and feared no one really dared question or oppose her anymore. Her boss was truthfully sad to know his time with her was on at end, but, wanting to keep her in his good graces, he'd assisted her in starting up contracts on her own. As such, she had become available on the black market for various jobs. The only way to contact her for employment was through a complex encryption email system.

The message was brief: _Need the Wolf for elimination contract. No witnesses, no blood spilled. High risk. High pay. Please respond._

She's earned herself the name of Wolf years ago through her solitude and pragmatic approach to violence. It was a male name and often confused potential employers as they did not expect a woman to be the one to come with that ferocious reputation.

She answered at once. _Wolf available. Will meet in person for contract details. Specify location and date._

The message was encrypted and sent off to Columbia. It had her intrigued, but she pushed it out of her mind for the time being, focusing on the final thing she had to deal with.

"Okay Art, call Charles."

" _At once._ "

She didn't video chat him, preferring to simply go through to his phone. Her location remained untraceable, even if his was.

A few rings in a tiered, groggy voice answered. Jesus, she was waking everyone up this morning…

"What?"

"That's no way to answer a phone." She scolded at once, an amused smirk pulling at her lips. She heard a bit of shuffling and swearing at the other end, before the man gathered his bearings.

"It's you."

She couldn't tell if that was a question or not. "My assistant did say I would call back as soon as possible."

"Your assistant has a weird voice."

"I'm working on that."

There was a bit more shuffling and she heard a yawn.

"How have you been?" He finally asked. "No, wait, don't answer that. I didn't call you to chat. Can you make it to Montreal tonight?"

She sat there with an almost exasperated look. "You're in a hurry. Tonight? What time?"

"Around 10 at… at the restaurant, you know…"

"Yeah, I know which one. Why?"

He scoffed. "Someone wants to meet you."

Her eyes narrowed at once. "That someone better not be who I'm thinking." Her voice suddenly fell several degrees into an ice-cold tone.

"No! No… although he _is_ still asking about you…"

"I'm dead. Why's he asking about a dead girl?" She growled. "So you have someone else in mind?"

"Yeah. Can you make it?"

She pondered this a moment. She did have her false Canadian passport with her… all she needed was to book a flight and haul ass to Montreal… she could buy whatever clothes she needed once she arrived.

"Is it worth my time?" She finally asked.

"It is, trust me."

Alexia sighed. "Fine. Fine then, I'll meet you there at ten."

"See you there!"

She hung up without another word. Again, her interest was piqued… but having thought about _him_ … he was still asking about her? Why? Why couldn't he let it go? It had been years… it had been years and her heart still ached at the thought of him. She suspected it would never stop.

And he wasn't making it any easier by asking about her…

Alexia was in a fairly foul mood as she asked Art to book her a quick flight to Montreal with her Canadian passport as her name. Then, she packed up her computer and left the café, trying hard not to grind her teeth.

(0)

In a further confine of the galaxy, on a world called Jotunheim, a pact was being forged.

The Frost Giants had not forgiven or forgotten their betrayal at the hands of Loki Laufeyson… as such, they had sworn no rest until they would find vengeance for the wrongs done to them.

So, when the ancient race was approached by another war-like people known as the Chitauri, an alliance between the two seemed like a most reasonable act. Both sought vengeance and desired to conquer the worlds of the galaxy…

And where the Chitauri had sensed a newly awakening force stirring somewhere far off in the universe, the Jotun had found aeon-old markings of their people that told legends of a similar power coming to rise… a power born of the world between all worlds, which would give whomever wielded it to possibility to enslave or unite every universe in existence.

War was brewing. All they needed now was to find the source of that power…

And enslave whoever wielded it.

(0)

Please review! Reviews are like gifts and are a super nice surprise that keeps me motivated!

I see my traffic, I know at least a few of you read this story ;) let me know if you like it or no and if there are things you think I should change.

Many reviews mean many updates!


	5. Memory lane

Thank you for the reviews, especially the constructive criticism! It really helps me see where I need to put more effort in my writing and I promise to keep it in mind when I continue this story!

(0)

She hated flying. Honest-to-God hated it.

Which was surprizing, considering she'd taken probably over fifty plane rides so far in her life… one would have thought she'd have gotten used to it by now, but Alexia seemed determined to remain plagued by this stupid phobia…

In her line of work, she did have to go to faraway places fairly often… so she did the only thing she could think of to make the voyage acceptable: she knocked a quarter of a sleeping pill nearly an hour before the flight to make sure she was knocked out cold before it had the chance to leave the ground. Coupled with two beers hastily downed at the airport bar, accompanied by a flatbread ham panini to quell her rumbling tummy, the girl was as ready as she'd ever be… thankfully the flight was short and any way, she really enjoyed sleeping and dreaming.

It was the only world in which she could still pretend nothing had ever gone horribly wrong with her life.

She's visited a few stores in New York, choosing to buy some clothes and baggage before departure, seeing as how taking a flight without a single piece of luggage to check in seemed extremely suspicious. Alexia didn't want to attract attention and she'd asked Art to book an economy class flight; it was less comfortable and more stressful (not to mention way cheaper) than a private jet flight, but it seemed as normal as could be.

So the young woman sat down in her window seat on the small airplane, squeezing past an elderly couple with a nod. She buckled her seatbelt and tried to breathe deeply and relax. She could feel her eyes drooping as the terribly ill-thought mix of sleeping medication and alcohol started to take over her body. She knew she'd be groggy upon arrival, but that was a far better outcome than the continuous feeling of gut-squeezing, confined panic that accompanied her on every plane.

"Nervous flyer?" The elder woman next to her asked, trying to be kind.

Feeling queasy, Alexia just growled a response. The woman looked at her strangely and decided that perhaps it wasn't in her best intention to chat with the young woman.

Slowly, while the plane filled, Alexia's eyes began to feel too heavy to stay open. She pulled out her headphones and her cell phone, quickly plugging them in and starting up an 8 hour long track that was supposed to relax her mind through binaural beats.

She only half-believed that crap, but seeing as it had occasionally helped her achieve lucid dreaming, she was always willing to give it a shot.

And so, the lucky woman was out like a light by the time the plane started backing out onto the runway.

(0)

 _She was dreaming. She knew she was dreaming. He was there._

 _Reality-check. She hadn't lucid dreamt in a while, but the habit was still there. She looked at her hands and tried to count ten fingers. There were a thousand and then there were none. Then there were a thousand again._

 _She smiled. Relaxed. She could feel, somewhere beyond the veil of what she called The White, the transition between sleep and awake, her heavy body. It felt like a hundred million tons. But she felt as light as air._

' _I miss you.' She told him, sadness squeezing at her heart._

 _His face changed, tried to become someone else. She seized it and forced it to remain._

 _She knew it wasn't really him. But did that stop her from wanting to touch him, kiss him, fuck him?_

 _No, it never did._

 _Just as she would never stop missing him._

 _She grabbed his hand and started talking. She told him all about her regrets, her fears… just as she had done for real all those years ago, in another lifetime it would seem…_

 _She used to build creatures and cities and worlds when she lucid dreamt._

 _But ever since she'd been forced to cut him out of her life, the only thing she ever did in those incredible moments in the dream world was talk to and fuck him._

 _It was the only time she could ever be with him…_

 _And she didn't waste a second of it._

(0)

Loki left the throne room with hunched shoulders. He was exhausted after the long day, his heavy walk betraying his sentiment.

It was incredibly hard and wearisome to rule a kingdom it would seem… he'd paid moderate attention to the way his false father ruled his subject, but had apparently never noticed how… tedious it could be.

Daily, he had to solve ridiculous quarrel after quarrel, never able to satisfy all the parties. From mewling nobles upset by a slight, to fighters somehow insulted by the words of a rival, all the way to petty thefts from one merchant to another, his days were filled with cases that made him almost want to bring Odin out of his sleep to retake the throne…

Almost.

Because if things could get interesting… if there could finally be some sort of war, some action… it would become far more fun to sit at the head of Asgard. He was growing restless with all these meaningless queries.

The god made it back to his royal chambers, passing two guards at his doors.

"Let no one in, I do not wish to be bothered." He snapped at them a bit coolly. They stood at attention at once, stiff and serious.

He shut the immense doors behind him and shrugged off at once the heavy gold cape that draped his shoulders. In the safety of his chambers he dropped the enchantment that shielded him from everyone's eyes and gave him the appearance of his false father. It was with a content sigh that Loki moved to a low table, filling a gold cup with blood-red wine and grabbing an apple before striding to one side of the gigantic room, where a large fireplace roared heat and fire.

He stared into the flames and listened to the form approaching silently behind him, taking a bite of his apple and a long sip of wine.

"What news, Kerra?"

The noise behind him was unmistakably disappointed. Within a moment, the young mage walked up to him, touching his arm with a sly smile.

"Very few people sense me when I don't want to be sensed." She murmured, her lovely fiery eyes shining mischievously. Loki finished the apple and threw the core into the blazing fire, glancing at her with an amused smirk.

"I'm not most people." He downed the rest if the wine, grabbed the girl roughly by the back of the head and pressed his lips to hers in a hard kiss. Before she could snake her arms around him in a vice-like embrace, he let her go and moved away to fill his cup again.

She followed him with her eyes, biting her lip slightly.

"What news?" He repeated, a tad impatient. The day truly had been endless…

"Not much, my king. The scholars search scroll and manuscript for any information on a bridge between worlds and have found nothing. The mages have scoured the deepest confines of the catacombs and libraries for any information and have come up empty handed. However…"

She paused. Loki turned around briskly, eyes piercing. He chose to bring the whole carafe of wine back as he strode towards the young woman, a most serious look on his face.

"What? Tell me." He ordered.

She shrugged, seeming unsure.

"It almost seems like nothing… but I have found a script that makes a curious allusion to dreams…" Loki sat down on one of the couches facing the fire and, as has been their habit for the past few weeks, the girl started slowly taking her clothes off in front of him. He listened raptly, trying not to get distracted by the lovely figure. "It speaks of the world of dreams as being 'the world between all worlds'. I cannot date the script, but it seems quite ancient… it is written in a strange dialect that's quite tedious to decipher. I'm not sure if it's worth my time, truly."

The god sipped from the carafe directly and gestured for the young woman to come closer as her robes fell to the ground and revealed a pale, but shapely figure. She moved like a vixen, ever so slightly still shy about her naked form and crawled onto him, kissing his jaw with soft lips.

"It seems to be our only lead. I want you to get all the information you can out of it."

"Of course my king." She nipped at his ear and he set the carafe aside, squeezing her ass none too gently as he pulled her in for a long kiss.

There was a booming knock on the door and Loki was up at once, his illusion taking over without hesitation. Kerra moved away from him and vanished into the shadows, just in time… Heimdall literally barged into the room, slightly out of breath.

Loki just spread his hands to his side, slightly aghast at the intrusion, trying hard to get his mind of out the gutter to regain control over the hardness in his pants…

"Forgive me, all father…"

"My king!" One of the guards stumbled into the room, followed by the other.

"Forgive us! You said no intrusions…"

"But Heimdall was insistent, we couldn't…"

"Enough." Loki snapped so curtly that everyone fell silent. "Heimdall? What is the meaning of this?"

The guardian kneeled at once. "All father. The force…"

"Have you found it?" The god asked eagerly.

"No, my king. But I have sensed it anew. It bridged every world… it was… it was of great beauty. But it was so brief, I could not tell where it came from."

Loki couldn't hide his disappointment. "I see…"

"But it was sharper, stronger. Whatever it is, it is growing." Heimdall assured, understanding that his lack of interesting information was unsatisfactory. "I will keep watch for it."

The god nodded. "So be it. And, Heimdall… unless you find it with certainty, I would ask you abstain from barging into my private chambers…"

The guardian and the guards apologised again as they retreated from the room and shut the heavy gold doors. Loki watched them go and sighed when he was alone again, dropping his illusion anew.

"Kerra?" He questioned the darkness. She appeared, still naked and grinning.

"Close call. Would you have me resume my search at once, in light of this new information?"

He pulled her in to continue their kiss and gestured to the bed.

"You can do that later. I have more urgent things I need you to take care of."

At least he would get a good night's sleep out of all this.

(0)

They landed gently enough that she didn't wake up brusquely.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived in Montreal. The time is 16:45 and the weather is sunny. We are going to ask you to remain seated while…" The pilot kept talking, but she wasn't listening. Her gaze was riveted to the outdoors through the tiny window, unmistakably sad after her vivid lucid dream.

She had moved away in hopes of fleeing _him_. But he kept haunting her. It would never end and she knew she would never be able to get over it. So she would have to endure this.

Perhaps it was her punishment for the lives she took. For all the people she hurt and slaughtered and pretended it was alright. For all those souls, she would be forever denied the only one that mattered.

Alexia packed out of the plane and went through the airport with everyone else. She passed customs without breaking a sweat: Art had taken care of everything and would have warned her if there was a problem. As the young woman was recuperating her single bag, a slight vibration resonated deep within her ear.

" _I have booked a room for you at the Queen Elizabeth hotel, as usual. Top floor penthouse._ " Art piped up.

The woman nodded to herself, unable to answer aloud in the crowded room. She proceeded with everyone else out of the airport, hailed a cab and asked the man to drive her downtown to the hotel in question.

She realized she had also missed speaking and hearing French… although it was heavily addled with the crude Quebec accent, it was still the language of her youth. She'd learned it at the same time as English and Polish as a child, adding Spanish, German and Russian to her pallet later in her life. She'd always had an ease with languages and had found a sort of hobby in learning new ones… plus, now that she had passports from various different countries, it helped justify them to speak the language from where they were.

The cab zoomed through the traffic… one thing that never changed from one big city to another was the sheer amount of vehicles that continuously seemed to want to get to the same place at the same time and only served to block everyone's progress. The driver tried to make conversation, but stopped quickly enough when she didn't respond with more than grunts.

She was still groggy from the sleeping pills. But that wasn't the only reason she didn't feel like talking… because right then they passed a club where she remembered she'd had one hell of a night drinking and partying with _him_ … and this street where they'd driven together, with her accompanying _him_ on a job… and this corner restaurant where they'd sat in the car, eating burgers and drinking beers at one in the morning and talking like they were alone in the world… and this motel where they'd stumbled in, piss-drunk, to fuck like dogs and pass out in one another's arms, until she'd wake up before first light and sneak out, leaving him as though she'd never been there…

After all, he had a wife and kids. And she had gone through one boyfriend sleeping with this man and now had another fiancé to return to.

Truly, this being, who knew her better than anyone in the world would ever be able to claim they did, would never, ever be hers.

But he was all hers one night from time to time. And that had been more than enough to make her the happiest woman alive.

Until the shit storm hit the fan and she learned the hard way that everything good in this life must have a brutal, heartless end.

(0)

I'm kinda sad for her… hope I'm doing a good job explaining this relationship she has with this person and slowly letting you discover what he means to her.

As always, please review. It makes me happy!


	6. Dangerous people

You guys are killing me! There's a fair amount of traffic to my stories, but no new reviews… I don't know if you like it or not, and its stressing me out!

Please take a moment to make a quick comment and let me know what you think of this so far! It's much appreciated!

(0)

" _Sir_?"

Tony looked up pensively from the machine he'd been tinkering on in his workshop. It was supposed to be an improved version of his arc reactor blaster for his suits, which would be able to shoot out an energy bolt that could explode on command, but he was having trouble properly calibrating the strength of the beam as to have it calculated to blow within a certain range.

"What?" He sighed, turning away from his work in progress.

" _You asked to me to keep an eye on Gabrielle Fosoway_."

"Yeah, and?"

" _Well... there appears to be a certain discrepancy between the woman who was here at the party and the woman working for Mister Herving. Facial analysis software insists they are not the same person._ "

Tony froze, halfway through rubbing the bridge of his nose. His eyes snapped up, suddenly rapt and attentive. "What? Pull that up on screen""

" _At once, sir_."

The screens around his room buzzed into existence, showing pictures of Harding's assistant. Friday pulled up one picture, taken by a security camera and another one of the woman, which was clearly taken as an ID and put them side-by-side. They both showed the same woman, but she looked nothing like the one he'd slept with the day before.

Well… if you squinted, turned your head sideways and had a few to drink… which he'd had, but still…

Friday then pulled up a security picture of the young woman leaving Stark tower that morning… and Tony pressed a hand to his mouth, scowling deeply, and eyes flying from one girl to the next.

"Fuck…" He growled, hand dropping. "Friday, find who that was. Find it fast."

" _At once, sir."_

"And get Coulson on the line. He might want to know about this."

Worry settled into his chest alongside anger mixed with genuine amazement. Who was that and how had she managed to slip in and out of his tower like a fucking ghost?

(0)

The cab pulled up in front of the very chic restaurant and Alexia tipped the driver generously before stepping out. She's had the time to sleep another solid hour at the hotel, ridding her body of the grogginess of the pill she'd taken for the flight, before washing up and getting ready for the evening ahead. She'd purchased a new dress in New York, going for a sleek blood-red one that hugged her curves but was less tight than the black one, since she wished to have more mobility in case… in case she had no idea what… Charles could be full of surprizes.

The dress covered the scars on her body, letting only one of her shoulder peak out slightly… she'd straightened her long hair and wore it in a high ponytail that she'd tried to make as classy and neat as possible. Her make-up was light, as always, but served to accentuate her facial lines into a predatory look.

The young woman walked up the stairs to the building, getting a few interested stares from a group of men nearby, before entering through the huge glass doors. The restaurant was renown in Montreal for being insanely expensive, but Charles took care to hire only the finest cooks and staff so the place could live up to its legendary name of serving some of the finest dishes in the city.

The Maitre'd stood at attention right at the entrance. He was a handsome young man with a pointed face that seemed to continuously want to pull back into a sneer. When he heard her pass through the doors, his eyes rose to glance at her, almost disdainfully, and he took care to take her in, head to toe, in a manner that might have bordered in insulting.

It amused her.

"Charles is expecting me."

At once the boy's eyes snapped to hers with slight alarm. That amused her even more.

"Of… of course!" He stuttered and nearly tripped in his haste to move from his reservation table and show her the way. "Right this way, miss."

They walked through the busy room briskly, headed for the back. Again, interested stares followed the young woman, mostly from men but also from several women. She felt that strange pull again… the same one she'd felt at Stark Tower and on various occasions in her life… as though every gaze was linked to her, every mind in synch…

 _Magnetic._ Alexia projected the thought almost playfully, attempting to seize every parcel of attention in the room.

To her grand surprise, every single gaze focused on her at once. Even the waiters. The boy guiding her slowed and started to turn to look at her…

In her shock, she felt the connection break and the moment was gone… it had lasted but a split second, but the room had ever so briefly fallen into silence as every mind turn to her… The boy in front of her kept walking as though nothing had happened and she followed him, trying to hide her confusion.

 _That was really weird._ Things like that made it almost hard to believe that the whole sensation was just in her own imagination…

They got to the back and he pulled aside a thick black curtain, standing aside to let her pass. She knew that that's where he would lead her, seeing as she had dined with Charles countless times in the private room of his restaurant. She slipped past the boy and took a deep, steadying breath.

Charles looked up at her from the end of the table, which was set for four. His eyes were as dark as they'd ever been, bordering on black, filled with shadows. He rose to greet her, moving swiftly around the table to pull her into an honest embrace.

Even on high heels, Alexia was nowhere near close to his height… the man was six feet, six inches tall and built like a bull. No wonder he frightened people, even as he reached his mid-fifties: he was towering, strong and dark from his hair to his gaze… and there was something in those eyes that made you pause. They still made her uneasy… and it had taken three years for her to stop fearing what she saw within them.

"Charles." She hugged him back earnestly. She could have, even should have hated him: he was the cause of the paradigm shift of her life, after all… but he'd always been just and honest with her. He guided her and assured her safety when he could. Somewhere in her whole nightmare, he'd been a light, a road to something more…

"You haven't changed." He nodded as he pulled her back to get a good look at her. Then, he gestured to the table and they both sat.

"You always say that."

He smirked. "And I mean it. You haven't changed in four years… even before that, you were always the same."

"You know that's not true. After everything…"

He interrupted. "After everything, you haven't changed. Part of that lies in what you are as a human being. In what you always were. But enough about that. Have a drink. How have things been?"

What he said was perhaps not false… but she didn't want to admit that the potential to become a heartless monster had always laid within her… She sighed as he filled her glass, hoping for the life of her that he hadn't made her come down all the way to Montreal for small talk. The wine in her glass was dark and rich and red… she wasn't a big connoisseur, having always considered all wines tasted more or less the same, but she knew Charles: that bottle was probably worth over 500 dollars. She picked up her glass in gentle fingers, swirling the blood-like liquid around and trying to pretend she knew what she was doing with it, before sending a long swing to the back of her throat. It was good… she supposed.

"Same old. Work, break, work. There comes a point where it almost becomes routine, I suppose. How about you?"

He snorted. "I guess I could say the same. It gets boring. Until things fuck up, which they haven't in a long time… guess I should be thankful…"

She took another long swing, staring at him with a calculated gaze. "Why am I here?"

"Always to the point. Can't say I blame you." He drank deeply as well. "I may have someone with a job offer for you. Rich boy, I'd appreciate if you would hear him out, he's planning on investing a lot of money into my business."

She smirked slightly. "Do I still owe you?" She asked playfully. The man returned an amused glance.

"Your debt is paid, you know that. But I'm calling in a favor."

Alexia nodded.

"And here he is!" Charles exclaimed, getting up. The woman's gaze followed him and she rose slowly to greet the young man that entered the backroom alongside three huge, bull-like men. They sported menacing looks and hands that seemed capable to grind a metal pot into a ball…

The young man amidst them was ordinary, with dark hair sleeked back and shiny green eyes… but there was something about him… he was pale and… soft. There was a pudginess about him that, for some reason, made her instantly dislike him.

"Alex, this is David." Charles introduced them.

"Dave for friends." The young man said slyly, shaking her hand. It was moist and she had to hold back a revolted shudder.

"David, then. My pleasure." She forced a smile onto her face and didn't wait for a reaction before returning to her seat. Both men joined her, but the big body guards stayed standing, leaving a spot open at the table.

Charles and David started a pleasant chat, but she could feel it was faked and heavy. They ordered from the exorbitant menu and called a round of vodka shots to drink to their health, as though they were friends… Alexia couldn't stop herself: she felt like throttling the smaller man. There was something about him that was absolutely teeth-baring… it was probably that attitude: he acted as though the very air in the room belong to him and they were privy to be breathing it.

"So… Alex." He downed another vodka shot and nodded at her, eyes shiny. Even if they were green, they looked dark to her. "I hear you do some interesting work."

"It's actually quite boring."

He laughed as their starter courses arrived. He'd taken some sort of soup and started eating as he spoke, his mouth full and dribbling. For a very brief moment, Alexia considered murdering him right then and there from sheer disgust. His three body guards looked slow and blundering… they were nothing more than standing intimidation; they didn't even worry her. But for respect for Charles, she kept smiling as though nothing was bothering her.

"I'd be interested in hiring you for a particularly challenging job. Of course, the pay would be worth your time. I was told you were the one to turn to when several people refused a particular case. I guess that's why I'm here today, then." He smiled but it was like looking at a grinning snake. There was something terribly wrong with it.

"Usually, when it's a job everyone else has refused, I ask for more. A lot more." She assured, nibbling her salad. Truth was, her appetite was gone.

"I understand. That's why I would be willing to offer twenty million for the job, all expenses paid."

He seemed so smug she wanted to slap him. But it _was_ a lot. She'd never done more than 5 million for a contract and that was when she'd assassinated the leader of a massive rebellion in Wakanda… and she'd been paid for by the government, with a bonus of vibranium-forged weapons of her choice.

"I'm listening." She sighed, picking up her glass of wine.

"I want you to kill Tony Stark."

Halfway through her swallow, she chocked and it took all of willpower not to spit it out all over Charles, who was watching with some interest. He reached over and slapped her back roughly a few times as she regained her breath, staring at the young man with barely veiled disbelief.

"You're insane."

He seemed shocked. "I am not!"

"You want me to kill Tony Stark… a thrice-damned billionaire and Avenger to boot! And you're only giving _twenty million for the job_?" She laughed, but there was no amusement in her voice. "You're out of your fucking mind."

David's face changed. There was no more softness of pretended kindness; it became cold and cruel and hard as ice. Five years ago she would have cringed, but they were not five years ago… she was a wolf now, not a pup.

"If its money you're after, I don't care, I'll double the price! I want him dead!" He slapped a hand on the table like some angered child. "He's preventing my company from purchasing another pharmaceutical one and I want him out of the way."

Men like him were dangerous. Men who were born into power and money and thought the world could be bought and changed at their whim… they were the fuel behind war and savagery… they were barely men at all. So she stood her ground, be it only because it brought her immense satisfaction to deny him what he was so sure he'd get.

"Out of the question. He's an Avenger, watched and revered by every passerby. He's armed to the teeth and protected by systems out of my own reach. It's suicide."

David's mouth was twisted into something ugly and angry. "I was told you accepted challenges." He glanced at Charles, who was very carefully looking at his polished nails.

"Were you also told I was looking to end my days? Because going after Tony Stark is pretty much me signing my lease on life." She growled.

He stood up brusquely, pointing at her as his upper lips curled into a snarl.

"Listen here, you-"

She slammed both hands on the table as she stood with a pounce, making the glasses ring and shake and every single one of his body guards reached into their jackets, ready to draw…

"No, you listen here you insufferable little shit. I haven't earned my name by bowing down to piss stains like you and doing what I was told like some beaten dog. I have lived up to my name by slaughtering those before me and making my own place in the world. If I'm not interested by your damned offer, all you have left to do it pack that soft little backside of yours back into whatever limo brought you here and ship off to ask some other shmuck to do your dirty work. And you." Her gaze shifted to the body guards and they cringed slightly at the formidable, brewing darkness within. "If any of you think I can't kill each and every single one of you before you even manage to draw those guns, you clearly don't understand why _David_ here was ready to pay me twenty million dollars to kill one man."

The silence was murderous. The body guards lowered their hands slowly, knowing their battle was lost. David let out a final, wordless grumble and stormed off, taking care to chuck his glass of wine to the ground.

The dark curtain swayed behind them and Alexia sighed deeply, sitting back into her chair. After a moment, she reached for the glass of wine and finished it in two long gulps.

"I take it you need something stronger." Charles offered, gesturing to a waitress, which had stood as silent and motionless as a shadow during the whole exchange. She rushed off, too keen on getting out of the room.

Alexia gave him a dark look. "Jesus fucking Christ… did you know about this?"

"Honestly, no. He told me his price, not his target. I do wish you'd agreed, though… he really was going to invest an important sum with me."

"Charles, for fuck's sake… it's completely insane!"

The waitress returned with an expensive bottle of vodka and he poured them two shots.

"Alex… I'll be honesty and say I think you would have easily pulled it off."

She scowled, set her jaw and knocked back the shot without as much as a spasm. Charles poured them another one.

"He's an Avenger… it's…"

"Suicide, yeah. I heard you the first time. But I've come to know you over the years. You're an exceptional being, one that comes by only once in a thousand lifetimes. I've seen you work for me and I know what you can do." They toasted two more shots and drank them. "You learned skills in months that usually take people years. Fighting, languages, stealth, computers… nothing you took up was able to even slow you down. So I know you could have killed Stark without so much as breaking a sweat. I won't question why you won't do it, but don't for a second think I'm not aware of it."

She nodded. For a brief moment she had flash backs of her beginnings with Charles… her first job, which bound her to him as he demanded she kill a man; the retired MMA fighter he hooked her up with to teach her various martial arts; the Shaolin priest friend who'd taught her to use her other senses to feel the world around her; his contacts in various countries who taught her their language and dialects; the hired torturers who taught her how to hurt a person for days without them dying…

"I've become a monster." She told him, realizing the alcohol was hitting her hard this evening.

He laughed genuinely.

"Alex… you've always been a monster. You only let it free working for me…" Charles stared at her intently. "Is that why you won't talk to _him_ anymore?"

She snarled. "I don't want to talk _about_ him."

"And yet he asks about you."

"Tell him to atop asking about a dead girl. I'm dead, damnit!"

"You're dead on paper. You botched your exit from your past life and now you're paying for it. Should have staged it better. You fiancé has moved on, as has your family. But _he_ … _he_ will never stop and you know it."

"Tell him I died then. For real."

Charles laughed bitterly as they knocked back two more shots. "I'm not telling him anything. Call him and tell him yourself."

Alexia shook her head sadly. "I can't. I can't let him see… what I am…"

"Girl, when will you understand? You were back then what you are now. He saw it as much as I did. We might have been the only two people in your life to see the horrible, crushing soullessness within you, but we saw it. And we took you in for it. He knows what you have done, because he knew all along it was in you to do. And yet it hasn't stopped him from caring for you like I've never seen anyone care for anyone. You gave your freedom for him and he will never, _ever_ forgive himself for that. He will never forgive himself that his own course of circumstance forced you into that situation."

She closed her eyes and sighed very deeply. It almost… _almost_ gave her what she needed to call him.

But no. She'd worked too hard to try and sever him from her life.

"He doesn't need me. I was always been poison, toxic to him. He has his wife and kids… let him find solace in that." She got up, a very slight sway accompanying her steps. "Good night, Charles. Sorry for fucking up your deal with the asshat."

He shrugged. "No problem. Don't be a stranger."

She strode out of the room and through the restaurant, feeling exhausted.

And the moment she stepped out on the street, she felt it… a sixth sense, a warning that was too powerful to ignore…

She had those from time to time and had always been careful to listen to them. They'd saved her life.

Alexia felt it in her bones: she was in danger.

(0)

There! Because you people don't review, there's a mean cliffy for you!

Hehehehe good night!


	7. Predator

Please forgive the typoes. I try and re-read and correct them when I see them!

(0)

"Phil! This isn't some kind of joke! This is serious stuff and I need S.H.I.E.L.D. to look into it!" Tony followed the older man through the maze of a compound, a disbelieving look pulling on his features. He couldn't quite register that the director had so quickly pushed his issue with the mystery woman aside. He hadn't been able to pull up a single file related to her other than a dated death-notice from Quebec, Canada… and he wasn't quite sure it was her. The damned woman was a ghost and it was very unnerving.

"Tony, I told you already. We'll look into it as soon as we investigate into this more pressing matter." The director was moving fast, delivering orders and grabbing files as he passed. An Asian woman debriefed him on some other matter but he waved her away, trying obviously to focus on something he deemed more important.

Truthfully, Tony's interest was sort of piqued…

"What other matter?" He finally questioned.

Phil Coulson sighed, glancing at a file as he entered the control room.

"A death threat has been put out on one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s chief financial backers. We don't know exactly by whom, but we suspect a dormant Hydra agent. We need to neutralize this threat at once." The man explained, turning to Tony.

The billionaire shrugged. "You have more than enough agents and resources to deal with a threat like that. I just need to borrow a few to help me find my ghost visitor. Surely you can spare one or two interns?"

"No, we can't." Coulson sighed, exasperated, feeling like that was his principal emotion when faced with Stark. "The hit was offered to the most elusive assassin in the world… We are dealing with the damned Wolf and we might have to call in the Avengers to settle this one out."

" _All_ the Avengers?" Tony questioned, now very curious.

"All the Avengers we can get our hands on in the next twenty-four hours."

(0)

She breathed deeply, steadying herself. The feeling of imminent danger was pulsating in her heart with every beat… her skin felt like needles were prickling every inch of it and her eyes darted back and forth suspiciously. She walked slowly down the steps from the restaurant and turned a corner rapidly into an alley between two buildings.

Was she fleeing? No, of course not.

She'd had this feeling before and it had saved her life. She never really could explain how or why it came to her in moments of need. Alexia didn't even really know what to call it, either; it was as though a voice only she could hear was whispering in her ear, guiding her away from danger. She wasn't going to ignore it… only follow it…

Alexia hugged one wall, walking steadily towards the end of the alley, waiting…

She heard the footsteps behind her clear as day. Heavy. Barely hidden. They were three; she didn't even have to look. And she was starting to have a good idea of whom she was dealing with. So she quickened her pace slightly and turned the corner into the next alley sharply.

It was almost too easy.

She crouched down, teeth shown in animal savagery, expecting. The three sets of footsteps quickened to catch up with her and the first man turned the corner rapidly, looking far ahead.

That was the end of him.

She stroke like a snake, rising fluidly from her position. His hand was reaching into his black jacket to grab a gun, but as he drew it, she seized his fingers with one hand, her grip like iron, while pushing down with all her strength on the top of his forearm, near his wrist. The tendons in his wrist protested and the man opened his mouth to scream, but the pressure she applied was monumental and the joint tore with a barely audible snap. He was still stunned; the hand that had pushed down on his arm rose like lightening and collided with his nose at a perfect angle, shattering bone and silencing his scream before it even had the chance to erupt.

Alexia dodged around the man as he collapsed, all pain and confusion, and darted at the one behind him. She seized the hand with which he hand drawn in gun and pulled it down onto her shoulder as she rotated to face her back to him. Using the force of his own forward motion, she catapulted him over her shoulder, twisting his arm along the way and positioning her hands so that his elbow broke from the force of his impact on the ground. His gun went flying and she stomped her high heel at his throat without even looking, puncturing a hole right under his Adam's apple.

Were it not for his training as a body guard, the third man would have frozen. Instead, he had carried out his motion of drawing his weapon and pointing it at the enraged girl.

But she'd had a different sort of training.

She moved as swiftly as ever, swatting his armed hand aside. He hadn't steadied his gun with a second hand, so the shot went wild as he was thrown off balance. She used his side-step against him and pushed with all her might towards a nearby wall. As he stumbled towards it, she struck out a carefully calculated foot and tripped him, pushing her hand against his head with all her weight behind it.

His head collided with the bricks with such force that his skull shattered and he died instantly.

But she wasn't done.

Lips pulled back from her teeth in an insane, terrifying and animal snarl, she leapt at the first guard, who was cradling his broken wrist and struggling to get back up. From behind, she seized his head in a deathly grip and twisted it sideways in a crooked angle with all her might.

She felt the bones in his neck scream and protest as she pulled, pulled… they crunched like paper and finally broke apart, severing his spinal cord. He still hadn't been able to scream.

Alexia let him collapse on the ground, as she pulled in heavy, wild breaths.

There was a hunger within her, a famine that awoke whenever she let loose and killed.

They hadn't called her the Wolf for nothing.

She turned her head to look at the entry to the alley, where she had come from. There, she saw the person she had expected to see: David, with his green eyes wide in stupor, seated in the back of a big, black car, unable to utter a word.

She snarled at him.

He started yelling, pulling his window up and ordering the driver to move.

"Art?" The girl grumbled.

" _Yes?_ "

"You have access to the traffic cams in downtown Montreal?"

" _Always, m'am_."

"Follow a black Cadillac limo from my position. Tell me where it goes."

" _At once."_

Little shit.

(0)

He thought he was clever. He thought he was better. He drove that limo left and right around town for near and hour, losing imaginary pursuers, thinking himself safe…

But truth to the matter was that Charles was right about everything: she'd always been a monster. She'd fallen into petty crime and then fallen into heavy crime without blinking. She'd changed existence with the ease one has changing clothes: it had always been within her to commit the worst acts. She had simply starved the beast and beat it back for years… but once it was free…

And once it was properly trained and armed with technology…

David burst into his hotel room with laughter that masked very well his terror. He had stationed two guards at the hotel lobby to filter anyone coming in and out and had put two more at the door to his suite. He'd taken a bottle of brandy up from the bar, grabbing a lovely, slightly drunk young woman along the way.

So what if his men had fallen to the she-wolf? He'd miscalculated her savagery: that was all! Here he was safe, having made sure she wasn't following him before making it the hotel. He would drink and fuck the night away and deal with the thrice-damned whore in the morning!

He pushed the drunken girl onto his bed and took a long, hearty swing from the brandy bottle. Fear pulsed in his chest, beating like a second heart, refusing to leave, and in about three minutes he would start wishing he had heeded its warning.

Because what sort of Wolf would Alexia be if she hadn't already tracked her prey to its hideout? What sort of Wolf would she be if she wasn't already waiting, coiled and sharp and ready to strike?

While Art followed the limo as it zigzagged the streets of Montreal, the girl had stormed onto the street, hailed a cab and pulled out her phone. She pulled up a program and started to hack the nearest hotels for every single high-end room that had been rented for the night. She came up with twenty-three matches… she asked Art to cross-reference them from security camera shots from the evening and find a young man with dark hair and green eyes accompanied by at least three burly body guards.

She'd had her match in minutes.

Alexia ordered the cab to drop her off near David's hotel and had Art loop the camera footage as she made her way up to the prissy boy's suite, unseen and unforeseen, all the while having an update of where the man's limo was in the city, thanks to Art's video surveillance.

So she was there when he pushed the drunken girl onto his bed, drinking heavily from the bottle he'd brought up with him. They were both so blind, they'd never seen her standing nearby like a ghost in the shadows.

Then again… that was what she was good at. Being a ghost. Being a shadow.

She moved without a sound, her heels pressing into the thick carpet like into a cloud. In one hand, she held a vibranium blade, which she wore on a belt around her thigh when her clothes could conceal it. In the other, she held a silken scarf.

It was the drunken girl that saw her first. Points to her. But she didn't have nearly enough time to process the image of the rapidly approaching, enraged and ecstatic-looking woman behind David and make a sound… Alexia moved her hand like lightening and the blade in it flew, whispering past the man's side and plunging deep into the girl's eye. She died with a sigh, almost as if she had been expecting this.

 _Casualty._ Was Alexia's only thought on the matter. She didn't care who died on her way to complete this mission. The only thing that mattered was to complete it.

David pulled the bottle away from his lips and looked down at the woman… what was sticking out of her eye? What was that red liquid gushing from… oh _God_ … he'd only looked away for in instant…

Alexia swung the scarf over his head and yanked it back when it reached his mouth. His scream died in his throat as she savagely ripped the fabric backwards, tying it behind his head in a swift motion. It was tight enough to make the corners of his mouth bleed. She pulled on it sideways, sending him tumbling in his confusion as she reached for her vibranium blade and pulled it free from the woman's eyes.

As she turned to him, she relished the horror in his eyes… he didn't understand… couldn't grasp how she had outdone his childish escape and beaten him to the punch… He was crawling back, one hand holding him up as the other tried to loosen the scarf around his mouth…

"Stop moving." She ordered. Her voice was soft, almost like a caress. There was no savagery in it, but it brimmed with danger. The man froze immediately, looking up at her with wide, terrified green eyes. She wrinkled her nose as the scent of piss reached her and she realized he'd wet himself in his fear.

"I thought I was clear when I told you we were done. No business, no bothering, no hard feelings. And yet here we are." She crouched down in front of him, her vibranium knife lazily twirling from finger to finger as easily as when she'd been cutting the tomatoes in her garden. David followed its movement hypnotically. "Here we are. After you sent three men to kill me. Three men." Alexia genuinely chuckled and the man looked up at her, shaking. "You were willing to pay me twenty million to kill a single man and yet you sent three brain-dead goons to try and end me. Do you see the idiocy behind that, David?"

He nodded frantically, tears welling up in his eyes. Her dislike of him grew further into true hatred. This man was soft and weak and grotesque… everything that was wrong with this world could be summarized in how this young bastard, born into richness, thought he could bend the world to his rules, whatever they may be.

"And yet here we are." She whispered, staring at him almost avidly. That was the look that terrified her victims most: that relentless hunger; the awaiting beast behind the human. Tears spilled out of David's eyes and rolled down his cheeks as he whimpered softly. "Do you think you'll live, David?"

For the longest of moments, there was nothing but silence between them. They stared at one another. His green irises were drowning in her dark ones as he pulled in quick, panicked breaths. She felt as though she could feel every inch of his soul, of his terror: it beat right next to her own heart, feeding her. There was that connection again… but there was more to it: she was also connected to the world, to the fundamental truth of the moment to come… she knew in her bones what was going to happen and, through her, he knew it as well.

He shook his head slowly.

She grinned.

David didn't even have the time to think about backing away… she leapt forward like the wolf she was, lighting-fast, and the vibranium blade slices his throat halfway into his trachea.

Blood exploded from the wound and the man fell back, chocking and struggling to clasp his hand over his slick neck, hoping to stop the flow… his pained outcry and collapse finally drew the attention of the guards outside his suite. They knocked frantically at the door and bulled it down when they received no answer…

But by the time they rushed into the room, David's blood had irrevocably left his body and his eyes had glossed over in death.

And a certain young woman had slipped into shadows, using the confusion to slide past the guards and into the corridor beyond. She was gone without a trace.

(0)

Alexia made her way back to her own hotel room after a brief stop at David's hotel's laundry room to wipe off the blood on her hands and blade. Art made sure to loop footage from the cameras she passed so she could get out without being recorded.

No one really paid her any attention, which suited her quite well.

When she arrived at her own suite, the first thing she did was take a long, hot shower. This evening had gone quite differently than she would have expected and honestly, it had taken a slight toll on her. She always felt rather exhausted after killing someone… it was frightening how benign murder had become to her.

 _What would you think of me now, if you saw me?_ She mused as near-burning water washed away her sins, thinking of her long lost friend. Four long years and she still thought of him. Why couldn't it end? Why couldn't he leave her thoughts, her life, her heart…? _Would you hate what I've become? Or would you pull my hair and growl my name and fuck me like I had never changed at all?_

Unbidden, tears rose to her eyes. She pushed them back angrily. Why? Why? She'd left everything behind: family, friends, her future career… even the man she was sworn to marry! Why couldn't she leave _him_ as well?

It wasn't love, because it had never been love. They were never meant for love. What was it, then?

Alexia slammed a fist into the steamy tiles of shower. The pain seemed to bring her back a little control. The agony that had settled in her chest receded somewhat. She closed the tap and stepped out, wrapping herself in a towel, deciding to keep on doing as she had done for four years: move forward relentlessly, keep her mind busy and pretend she didn't care about him… Out of sight, out of mind… Because that was working splendidly so far.

She went into her room and pulled out her laptop, booting it up. It came to life in seconds and she had Art redirect the Wi-Fi, as always, to hide her location. Then, she pulled up the encrypted mails in hopes of having a response for the job in Columbia. She was not disappointed.

 _Wolf to be picked up at El Dorado Airport at the earliest convenience for full briefing. Please respond with flight number._

Alexia smiled. Good. This would keep her busy for at least a few days, which was enough time for her to put Montreal and its memories back in her past where they belonged.

"Art, book a flight to New York under my Canadian passport and another one a few hours later from there to Columbia using my Polish passport, on a private jet. I'm going to have to bypass security. Send the Columbian flight number back as an encrypted mail to confirm I'll be picked up."

" _At once, m'am._ "

(0)

Reviews are mandatory, people!


	8. Details

I'm very sorry about any typos that slip by. I proof-read my chapters several times before posting, but truth is that I suffer from dyslexia and English is my second language, so a few do slip in every now and then. Feel free to copy-past the sentence (and chapter number) where you find typos into your reviews and I'll correct them! Dyslexia makes it so that words spelt wrong still look spelt right to me unless I pay extreme attention. I appreciate your comprehension!

(0)

Loki preceded the three scholars on his way to the Great Library. He walked in long, even steps, trying hard not to let him curiosity rush him forward. The three Asgardians behind him were elderly and frail and couldn't keep up with a fast pace; he also knew that he had to keep up his impersonation perfectly and Odin would never have rushed. So he wore an expression of mild interest and let his mind race and wonder about this new force that was causing so much commotion.

Heimdall kept sensing it as it pulsed time and time again throughout the worlds: he had reported a few such new events. Meanwhile Kerra managed to translate an ancient text that spoke of the beginning on the universe, as it sprang from what was called the Dream of Void, where what was nothing suddenly became everything as it was dreamt into existence. There were allusions to how the Dream bridged everything because it was made of nothing, but it made little sense and no author had signed the script.

And now, these three scholars, who had been searching relentlessly for days on his orders, had stumbled upon more writings that required his immediate attention.

Truth be told, he wasn't disappointed by the sudden intrusion: court had been tediously boring that morning. So it was with veiled gladness that he sent off the rest of his petitions to be dealt with some other time and had marched right out of the Great Hall with the three scholars to investigate this new information.

They reached the Library shortly and, as always, Loki felt like he was stepping into the most wondrous room in the world when he entered it. It had been his very favorite place growing up: where his false brother favored combat and strength, this young God had adored the presence of knowledge and stories. And there was no shortage of either in the Great Library! Cavernous halls with cathedral-high ceilings spread in every direction, their walls covered floor to shadowed ceiling in scriptures, tomes, rolls and heavy manuscripts. The immense stained glass windows on several walls were nowhere near big enough to light the furthest confines of the vast room. There were tables lit by candles and caked with ages of melted wax and slightly dusty armchairs all around, ready for whomever would want to sit and study.

"All father, please, right this way." One of the scholars pressed by him to gesture to a nearby table where two huge tomes lay next to a few burning candles. "We have found these amidst discarded and ancients texts. I fear they are in a frightful condition, but we were able to salvage various passages speaking of what you have asked us."

Loki stepped around the table and very gently opened the tome. It had an odd, intricate and half-faded symbol on the front. Its leather cover was cracked, dry and musty and he felt how brittle it was beneath his fingers. The parchment within was thin and aged and he turned the pages with the greatest care, looking at the words written there. They were in Ancient Asgadrian, which he'd studied as a youth, but the dialect was strange… truthfully, it slightly resembled the text Kerra had found.

"It speaks of the creation of the Universe… long, long before Niflheim ever even came to be. From what we understand, it speaks of the Void, or the Nothing, but the word used is one I have never seen before and I cannot be sure I have translated it well… It might mean Chaos, or…" Another scholar started, mumbling and peering at the texts, but Loki only glanced up at him with a pressing expression and the elder focused once more. "Yes, so… It speaks of how there was the Void, or the Nothing, and there came a force out of the Void. It became Everything. This force, it filled the space between that which was Nothing and what was Everything and it dreamt everything in existence. It was the beginning to every universe, to every world, to every living and not-living thing. That's where it gets most interesting, because you have asked us about a bridge between the worlds, in the likeness of Bifrost…"

Another scholar interrupted. "It is very unlike Bifrost! It isn't only a bridge: this force would be the link between everything. It is beyond comprehension, beyond measurement! It touches every universe, every world and every being through…"

"Dreams." Loki completed, amazed. So Kerra's text made some sense after all.

"Why… yes!" The third scholar exclaimed. "However, the text also mentions that as this force dreamt and dreamt and created, its power depleted until there was no more for it to create. It reached a state of balance and ceased existing, just as it had come into existence."

 _Fire and water_. Loki mused. _Light and darkness. Chaos and order. Nothing and everything. Could it be? The world has shifted out of balance and this primordial force awakens anew?_

"Of course, these are ancient texts… they are proof of nothing and do not even have an author!" One scholar said wisely.

"Is there any mention of this force returning? A legend… perhaps a prophecy?" Loki questioned further, closing the tome and examining the symbol on the front cover. It was strange: you gazed at it and it looked somewhat like a hand… one moment it had a thousand fingers and the next it had none.

"The second tome we found does make mention of what we first thought was Ragnarok. But it was not. It was a different tale of the end of times: one which prophesised how the force that created the world would returned to destroy it, thus completing the cycle. It would return when the worlds themselves shifted out of balance with the forces of light and darkness and it would sweep Everything back into Nothing."

Loki glanced at the second book. The same symbol on the cover.

A thousand fingers.

And then none.

(0)

Horrid flight to New York. She skipped the sleeping pill but doubled the beers, sitting stiff as a plank in her seat the whole while, already dreading the much longer voyage to Columbia. There was meager comfort in the fact that the next flight would be on a private jet: at least she would be able to relax somewhat and sleep during her next journey…

She had to make a quick stop out of the airport and to her car, where she had packed her work suitcase before leaving her home a few days who on her way to Stark Tower. Alexia never traveled away from home without her work attire and gadgets with her, never knowing when the opportunity for a job might show up. She had a few specific things she needed in order to infiltrate guarded places and kill targets and found the job so much easier when she had them.

The young woman had paid an exorbitant price for the private jet, of course, but it would hopefully be drops in the ocean if she accepted the offer in Columbia. More importantly, the private flight allowed her to bypass security, which was crucial: her work suitcase contained items that would be highly questionable under every circumstance.

Having retrieved the compact, black case, she boarded her flight with gritted teeth and barely nodded at the pilot, co-pilot and stewardess, all of whom stood in the doorway to great her. They all looked way too happy for their own good.

"Welcome aboard, miss Paluszki! Can I offer you a beverage while we wait for takeoff?" The young stewardess asked with unrelentingly good attitude, as Alexia got seated in one of the vast leather seats aboard.

"Sure." She nodded. "Got anything strong?"

"We have some of the finest liquors available. Brandy, cognac, whiskey, vodka. Perhaps you would prefer some champagne, we have Dom-"

"Cognac. Cognac will be just fine, thank you. With pears if you have it. Bring the bottle." Alexia didn't even wait for the stewardess to move away, she knocked back a whole sleeping pill at once. "I'll be going to the room in the back to sleep as soon as we are clear. I hate flying. Don't wake me until we hit the ground."

The other woman nodded knowingly. "Of course, as you wish. But, if I may… is it… advisable to mix sleeping medication and hard liquor?"

Alexia grimaced. "Darling, it's recommended."

(0)

She was groggy to the point it was hard to walk by the time they had reached cruising altitude. It took both the stewardess and the co-pilot to help her stumble to the back and into the king-sized bed, where she collapsed in a haze of alcohol and medication.

"I'll be fine… not first time…" She mumbled, her mouth filled with cotton. A sudden thought amused her: David should have tried to murder her on a flight… it would have been an easy task. She resolutely shut her mouth and let go of the world, before she could start saying things she might regret…

And she dreamt.

(0)

 _He was there. Of course he was. When wasn't he?_

You. _She put her hand on his chest. Noticed it. A thousand fingers. And then none._

I'm dreaming. _She looked up at him, willed his face to vanish, to change. It resisted her… how often had she forced it to stay? Why did it have to be so hard now?_

This is my dream. Enough. Not this time. _It took a monumental effort. It was like pushing a mountain over the course of a mile. But he vanished with a sad little smile. Her heart was going to burst._

 _She turned away from him and took in the world._

 _Ah, yes. Her world. She'd built all this, ages ago. When she'd lucid dreamt, younger, for months at a time. She was standing in the shallow peninsula shaped like a crescent that bordered the city she'd made. The water was warm around her feet and there were thousands of faceless people playing around her… well, they weren't really faceless. It was only she couldn't remember their faces anymore…_

 _The city was immense, filled with the strangest buildings. One skyscraper was made of a hundred thousand tiny mirrors that reflected the black and blue sky. Another was composed of these huge wooden blocks that slid along one another and moved continuously to expand and retract the building's shape._

 _There was a construction site filled with queer machines that never stopped working but somehow never amounted to anything. A subway system that went down for infinite levels but never went anywhere. Houses piled atop one another until they formed a massive bridge. A spire-like tower that rose into the sky and right out into space, where a ball-shaped observatory allowed one to look out._

 _It went on for ever and ever, this place so full of ideas she had constructed…_

 _She jumped up and found she was light as air. She beat her arms. Struggled. But started to fly._

 _She made it across the shallow water and to the first building she could find._

 _He was there._

Not now, I said. Can't you see I'm nothing?

 _She walked past him. To the door. Put her hand on the knob._

 _Thousand fingers. None._

The clearing. _She willed her location. Knew it. Remembered it. Turned the knob. Opened the door._

 _The inside of the house was snowing. Light snow that covered the grass and pine trees._

 _She stepped in and shut the city behind her._

 _The great beast awaited her, as if she had never left._

It has been so long. So sorry. So sorry. _She told it. It did not respond, only followed her with those blood-red eyes. It couldn't respond: it was still nothing._

 _She'd built it so long ago… her dragon. She loved it. But there had always been something wrong with it… something that prevented completion…_

 _Ah! Of course! How did she not see it before? So silly… his upper jaw was on up-side down! Teeth pointing straight up at the sky!_

 _Silly!_

 _She changed it. Made it right._

How about we make you something now? _She grinned at it. Dragon grinned back._

(0)

"Miss? Miss Paluszki?" A gentle hand shook her by the arm. Alexia struggled to wake; it felt as though her mind was threading through tar. She fought hard: it wasn't in her habit to awaken so sluggishly. She had long since taught herself to be sharp as knife at all times, especially when leaving sleep: it could be crucial to her survival.

She pushed herself up and shrugged off the stewardess' hand, rubbing exhaustion from her eyes.

"We have just landed. I'll let you get ready while we clear customs." The young woman left the room rapidly as Alexia stared, bleary-eyed, after her.

 _Maybe alcohol and sleeping pills aren't so recommended anymore…_ She mused, standing up gingerly. The plane was moving slowly and it wasn't helping her regain her balance. _Maybe it's not just flying that I'm trying to run away from._

She checked herself in the cabin's mirror, noting grimly that she looked as though she had died and crawled out of Hell… the young woman quickly brushed through her hair and changed her clothes into fresher ones. Her toothbrush was somewhere far in her luggage, so she settled on chewing some gum.

She waited patiently, awaking gradually, as the plane parked and she was able to get off.

The blazing Columbia heat hit her like a wall of bricks and she knew at once this would be a long evening.

(0)

A man was waiting for her at the airport's arrivals, holding a small sign in his hands with her flight number written on it. He was dressed formally in a black suit and shades and she had to hold back a snappy comment about how he looked very inconspicuous in his attire. His hair was cropped short and his shoulders were large: he was the perfect caricature of a mindless goon. To add insult to injury, he ignored her placidly at first: even as she planted herself right in front of him, suitcase and all. He just kept looking forward, trying to spot a man who might be the person he was sent to pick up.

Alexia stared at him blatantly for a few seconds, before he made a vague gesture with his hand to make her move along, still not giving her any attention. That did it.

"Yo soy el lobo, tarado." She growled, her patience exhausted.

His eyes snapped down at once, filled with disbelief even behind his dark glasses.

"De verdad?" He looked terribly unsure.

"Don't ask me to prove it, you'll regret your words. Let's go." She side-stepped him and marched out with the man following in a half-trot as he looked her up and down with admiration mixed with more disbelief. She ignored him; this had happened more than once since she insisted on keeping her name a secret and her nickname male. It was to be expected that clients thought that such a frightful assassin was a man… she normally took no offense, but the last few days had grated her.

He guided her to a black car and loaded her suitcase as she settled down in the mercifully air-conditioned vehicle. He jumped in next to her and they drove off and she appreciated how he made a visible effort to not seem too confused by her gender.

"Where are we going?" She questioned, wondering if he would even tell her. Sometimes clients wanted locations kept secret and their goons were not allowed to even talk with her.

"Not far. Outside city of Bogota." He responded stiffly, before glancing at her. "You are… _the_ Wolf? Lobo?"

She sighed. "Yes. Unfortunately for this world, I am."

They drove in silence, although she could tell he was very curious about her. He fidgeted slightly and kept glancing at her, but she ignored him, holding on loosely to her compact work case in her lap. She had never been to Columbia, so she took a moment to drink in the sight: as it often was with older cities, ancient architecture mixed with more bland, modern buildings all around her. The houses were not rich or spectacular, but neither were they run down or impoverished. There was a variety of people and a lot of action on the streets, even though it was very late in the afternoon. It looked somewhat like any other city in the world: a marriage of colors and people who existed in a tight space with barely veiled civility. On the edge of the city, organized society gave place to slightly more run down districts, where kids ran barefoot through the streets and dogs howled at passersby. She looked at it all without expression, but she enjoyed it: there was something about peering at a different culture that had always made her feel like she was visiting another world. A fabulously curious world.

They made a few turns through the neighborhood, but the girl wasn't worried: she'd instructed Art to keep a lock on her position at all times and start vocal analysis the moment she met the person who wanted to hire her. If there was trouble brewing, she would be able to get herself out and Art could assist her with getting anywhere she needed to go in the city.

There was a sudden vibration within her ear and she tensed ever so slightly, awaiting.

" _M'am, your friend Jonathan is asking to speak with you at once. He has bypassed all my security protocols and is connecting directly to our transmission, he…_ "

"It's okay Art, step down. Hello, Alex."

The girl kept an emotionless face, blinking slowly. They made another few turns in the neighborhood and started to slow down; she could only hope she would be able to resolve this quickly, before they arrived at their destination… which would be no easy feat, seeing as she couldn't talk.

"Alex? Can you hear me? What are you doing in Colmu… oh. Oh!" Thankfully the young man was quick. "Work, right. Clear your throat if you can't talk right now."

She obliged, earning herself a curious look from the driver. Alexia ignored him, looking off into the distance.

"Alright, no matter." He sounded excited. "I needed to contact you right now for two reasons. One: I'm in Stark's systems. The hack worked and Friday didn't detect it. I wanted to know if you wanted me to disconnect Art right now and update her with Stark's UI? Cough once for yes and twice for no."

Alarmed, knowing she was going to need Art in the next few hours, the young woman coughed twice quickly and shrugged at the driver when he gave her a questioning look.

"The air is dry."

He nodded knowingly and stopped at a red light.

"Okay…" She could hear the disappointment in Jonathan's voice. "We'll get back to that, then. Secondly, being able to access Friday, first thing I saw was that Stark has left his tower with two of his suits for a mission. I tried investigating further, but hit a wall because his mission files are from S.H.I.E.L.D., which I still can't get into (there was frustration in his tone now). Art could potentially hack them if I could update her, but…"

She sighed. The car pulled over in front of a fairly large house surrounded by a high fence and she figured they had arrived. There was another man dressed in black standing at the gate, looking aggravated and ready to shoot anything that got too close. It was hard to focus on conversations around her when she was receiving a transmission, so she had to wrap this up.

The man next to her got out and as he shut his door and she reached for the handle to her own, she had a few seconds of alone time.

"I'll get back to you." Alexia said as loudly as she dared without moving her lips and she slipped out of the car, holding on to her work case.

"Alright then. Try and hurry."

There was nothing more after that, so she figured he had disconnected.

 _Try and hurry… Sure, Jonathan. I'll be quick murdering people. No problem._

She nodded at the guard at the gate as he opened it for them. The man who'd driven her there was pulling her small suitcase along and she took a moment to observe her environment: there were several more guards, but they were dressed normally, each and every single one of them sporting some sort of gun. The house they approached was not large but it was sturdy and cared for, with iron bars in every window and cameras covering every angle.

Whoever she was going to have to deal with was a careful person.

They entered the house, escorted by another armed man, who led them through a passage all the way to the back to a sort of office.

There was a big desk against the far wall and a man was seated behind it, writing something on a piece of paper while a young woman standing next to him was speaking with him very softly. They both stopped doing what they were doing the moment Alexia entered the room and looked up at her.

She kept her face placid although she almost burst out laughing: it took her a short moment, but she recognized seated man and woman next to him with slight amusement. She could scarcely believe who they were, although it seemed quite fitting: there were no coincidences in this world.

"Leave us, Gabrielle. You too, guards, but stay nearby." The older man ordered, gesturing them out of the room as he rose. Alexia let them leave before moving forward with grace to shake the man's hand over his cluttered desk.

"The Wolf. I must say, I expected someone more…"

Alexia smirked. "Male? And I must say I expected a lot of people other than yourself, mister Herving."

He seemed very shocked that she knew his name and it was a nice feeling of victory, although she had done nothing to look him up. It was quite an amusing coincidence that the supposedly dormant Hydra agent who wanted someone murdered was one of Tony Stark's shareholders.

And his assistant was the woman Alexia had impersonated to get into Stark Tower.

" _Vocal analysis confirms this is Harold Herving_ , _shareholder of Stark Industries."_ Art said, although it wasn't necessary.

"You know who I am." He was frowning.

The girl kept smirking slightly as she seated herself in front of him, her work case in her lap.

"I'd be a terrible Wolf if I didn't."

He breathed in deeply, slightly worried, but sat down in front of her nonetheless.

"Does that mean you will refuse my offer?"

"I'm still here, aren't I? Besides, I have yet to hear what your offer is." She shrugged. "I don't really care who pays me, as long as I'm paid and I find the job to my liking."

At the same time, she had a wild thought: _Please dear lords above and below, do not make the next words out of his mouth 'Please kill Tony Stark'. There's only so much bullshit I can handle._

Thankfully, that was not the case.

"Well then… put simply: I need a man killed. His name is Ethan Jackson, he is an advisor and financial backer for the organisation S.H.I.E.L.D. and currently lives in Columbia. The hitch is that he is extremely well guarded by some very powerful agents and is never without protection. And I need him dead with no blood shed and no savagery on his person. He is an old… acquaintance… and I wish him to die with dignity. Is that something you could arrange?" Herving leaned forward, looking grave. She stared into those cold grey eyes and wondered how someone with so little soul could give two fucks about how they had someone murdered.

But she wasn't one to question.

"Without problem. Considering his level of protection, I am going to have to negotiate my pay, however. I'm not going to do this cheaply."

The older man nodded. "Of course. I'm sure we can come to an agreement."

The next two hours consisted of them haggling on a reasonable price and ironing out details for the assassination, before coming to a final decision and toasting it with freshly opened bottle of champagne.

As she left to hole down for some information hunting in a motel in Bogota, Alexia reflected, not for the first time, on just how utterly improbable her life had become.

(0)

Action in the next chapter, I promise! This one was getting a bit long.


	9. Wolves are without fear

Thank you kindly for the reviews!

(0)

She completed the second set of fifty Burpees, trying to ignore the weird smell coming from the motel rug every time her nose neared it. Alexia went on with fifty push-ups, one hundred sit-ups and one hundred squats. Sweat was rolling off her body in waves as all the alcohol and crap that had been released in her system these past few days was flushed out. The lack of an air conditioning and sweltering heat were helping immensely.

Fifty more Burpees and she slowed her pace into a few more muscular exercises, before calming her raging heart with some much-needed stretching.

Meanwhile, Art was compiling everything she could find on Ethan Jackson and keeping the young woman updated. She'd picked an ordinary motel with Wi-Fi in Bogota and had settled down like just some other tourist… unbeknown to anyone, she was amassing all the information she needed before striking at her target.

" _I have blueprints of his mansion in Buenaventura available, as well as detailed look into his schedule. Access into his PA has provided a continued update on his location._ "

"Great." Alexia nodded as she stretched her tense back. She loved being in shape and usually had a strict regimen when not working, but it had been neglected for too many days in a row. It was time to catch up. "When is he going to be home?"

" _He has two appointments tomorrow, but nothing planned in the evening. His wife will be out of town for another three days_."

"Perfect."

The girl completed her workout and went into the shower to wash off her sweltering body. It felt good to bring her heart rate up again… it felt cleansing. Alexia took a moment, as she sometimes did, to run her hands over the various scars on her body. Most were on her back, chest and stomach, as they had been meant to be mortal wounds. Some of them had almost been. Each told the story of a mistake, one that she had thankfully learned from; it had been quite some time since she'd acquired a new one. She traced them from time to time, in order to never forget… never forget those horrid signatures that marked her now and always as a fighter, a survivor… They were the line that had been drawn between her previous life and her present one.

She showered in freezing water even though she hated it and came out feeling renewed.

Art had compiled everything she needed: the man's location, the plans to his house, the guards under his employment, access to his security system and cameras as well as his schedule. She had background information that helped her understand who she was dealing with: he was a rich man, his father having helped found a pharmaceutical company decades ago. Jackson has inherited a majority of the stock and had turned part of the company into producing medication for ill children in impoverished countries.

 _Too bad you have to die._ The girl mused. If she'd cared at all, she might have been sad for the man. _Almost wish you'd been Stark's shareholder instead of Herving._

She knew where to find him and how to kill him: Herving had insisted on a humane method that didn't involve bloodshed and she'd agreed to a poison. She didn't mention what type of poison, because that was one of the secrets in her work briefcase: a trip, years ago, to South America had rewarded her with several choice toxins that could kill, paralyze or induce unbelievable pain in a man. She'd met a researcher and a tribe of natives that were threatened by a company that wanted to raze their plot of rainforest for wood, so she'd exchanged their safety for knowledge on poisons.

The man in charge of the small company had been easy to find and intimidate with a few well thought torture methods, so the natives had had their peace and they taught her all they knew of the various toxins available in the forest. She took care to remind the man she'd maimed that she still existed every year, lest he think again of bothering the forest's inhabitants and, in return, she received fresh shipments of poisons from the researcher who'd been there.

Having the Wolf as your ally was always a good thing.

She reviewed all the information available to her, feeling thankful for an assistant such as Art. Her job had been much harder before the PA: she had to research a target for weeks before even considering a strike. This method allowed her to fit more contracts into her schedule if necessary but, more importantly, it allowed her much needed time off.

Alexia memorized the blueprint for the target's mansion, level by level, until she knew it like the back of her hand. Then, she sat back and sighed.

"Okay, Art. Get Jonathan online. Blur the transmission as well as you can, but I think that even if you contact him directly he'll answer. He wants to get you updated."

" _At once m'am._ "

There was a moment of silence as Art launched the video chat and did what was necessary to get in contact with the young man. Alexia had debated when to put her AI offline for the update, but now that she had all the info she needed for her target, there wasn't much left for Art to do. She could risk not having the assistance.

The video chat came on and she was greeted with an unusually energetic and pleased young man.

"Alex." He grinned. "Really happy you came back so fast."

She smiled gently. "I have what I need. So… how long is this going to take?"

The young man pondered the question for a moment. "Well… In order to download the AI from Stark as such… and let Artemis upgrade herself… I'd say a solid ten hours. Maybe a bit more."

"Okay." She didn't hide the relief in her voice. It was late, but she hadn't planned her strike until the next night, which left her over fifteen hours before she needed to move. Art could be back by then. "Let's do this."

"She'll contact you when she's back online!"

The young man seemed very giddy, not even waiting for her reply before logging off. There was a soft click within Alexia's ear and she figured it meant Art was offline…

Suddenly she felt naked. She hadn't been without the program for a few years now… it was very unnerving to know Art wasn't available.

But, not being one to fret, the girl took a deep breath, picked up her wallet and keys and left the motel room to go find some food out in the busy city of Bogota. She was the Wolf after all, Art or not, and had nothing to fear from anyone…

She found her Spanish was slightly rusty, but after a few exchanges in the nearby fast food joint, it came back to her and she allowed herself a few amiable barters with some locals. It almost felt like home…

Her belly full of heavy food, she made her way back to the shabby motel, where sleep embraced her like an old friend and for once in a long time she truly relaxed.

(0)

 _Dream. Dream but this isn't her dream. And yet she knows she dreams._

 _Check your hands. A thousand fingers. And then none._

 _There is a figure. She has seen it before._

 _It is still. Somewhat frightening. A hood, a body wrapped in a cloak. There is wind, but the cloth does not move. It is frozen._

Dream rider.

 _It whispers._

 _But it could be screaming. She does not fear. She never fears._

 _And the figure moves._

 _But the cloth does not._

(0)

"All father." Heimdall bowed down low in front of Loki, averting his gaze.

"Rise, guardian." The false ruler nodded, intrigued. The court in waiting were whispering, equally curious about this sudden intrusion. The Bifrost's watcher had arrived out of breath, bursting in during an important hearing, heeding no warning, before collapsing into a bow before the king.

The great guard rose to his feet, his eyes full of amazement.

"I have found it." He almost whispered.

Loki sat forward, unable to hide the greed in his eyes.

"Where?"

"Midgard."

There was a moment of stillness. Loki barely believed it.

 _That rock again?_ He wondered. How could it be that that world in particular was always plagued with the oddest powers? Why was everything centered on that planet of ridiculously soft inhabitants?

"Where is Thor?" He called after a brief thought. When no one answered, he repeated himself louder. "WHERE IS THOR?"

"My king." Jora, an errand girl, answered softly near him. "He is hunting with his warriors. He might be away some time."

"Find him. At once. I have a task of far greater importance for him."

(0)

She awoke to the vibration in her ear. Her eyes opened, sharp as knives, and she was immediately aware of every detail in the room.

The smell of old motel sheets, the harrowing heat that clammed her skin, the rumble in her belly from last night's heavy supper…

"Art?" She asked, before the AI even had time to contact her, her voice barely groggy from the long hours of rest.

" _I am back online, m'am_." Art's voice was different. It had no trace of poor, robotic wording… it sounded almost… human. " _The update was a success. I have copied the AI Friday's and Jarvis' programming to expand my knowledge and skills. I am available to better serve you with advanced understanding and possibilities_."

Alexia was wordless. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts, as she checked the nearby clock and realized it wasn't even two in the afternoon. It had taken barely twelve hours for Jonathan to fully update Art…

"Well…" She got up slowly. "How… what else can you do now?"

" _I can access the Stark Tower systems and have been able to hack S.H.I.E.L.D. system as well, although a sustained hack into Friday is very demanding on my systems and permits me to do nothing else at the same time. You might however be interested to know that S.H.I.E.L.D. has been able to intercept one of the encrypted mails regarding Mister Ethan Jackson and that they have stationed members at his home to defend him in case of an attack_."

"Wha…" Alexia was fully awake now. Funny enough, she was more amused by the information than she was scared. "Really? So that's where Stark went when he left his tower with two suits?"

" _Yes m'am._ "

"And what kind of suits did he bring with him?"

" _The ones known as Mark 42 and Mark 45. Mark 42 is an autonomous piloted system, an assistant in combat_ …" Art kept talking, but Alexia was barely listening. This new, updated AI was a disproportionate advantage… she could have never dreamed is something of this calibre! "… _He will be assisted by Rhodes piloting War Machine and Sam Wilson in the Falcon armor. Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers and The Vision have also been called into the protection program to defend Ethan Jackson against the Wolf. No expense has been spared; they want to end you_."

Alexia sat there in stunned silence. Outside, dogs barked, people yelled and she heard a child scream and laugh. But it was as though the world outside her door was a hundred thousand lifetimes away. For the longest moment, she didn't even know where to begin… what to address first…

"Art… what…" She shook her head, trying to clear it. It wasn't often that she was at a loss for words… but to have S.H.I.E.L.D. mobilize the entire Avengers team just to defend one man against her… was it an honor or a reason to be afraid?

Alexia got up briskly, smirking. Wait just a moment! She was the Wolf! She had been through Hell and back with nothing more to show for it than a few healed scars. She'd taken bullets, been sliced by blades, survived beatings and torture! She'd killed men and ripped their nails off just to get them to talk! She fought in hand-to-hand combat against armed and dangerous people and had out-maneuvered them every time!

She was the Wolf. She had no reason to be afraid.

"What else can you tell me that might be of some interest?" She demanded as she headed for the shower, her mind already working overtime to find some advantage in all of this that could work for her. It was time to get moving. She had a job to do.

" _It is unrelated to Mister Ethan Jackson, but the organisations AIM and Hydra have seemingly found and decrypted ancient texts speaking of a force of great magnitude returning to the world. I have been able to access a machine created by AIM that reads fluctuation changes within the energy of the planet at it seems to confirm something has begun stirring. The files I have accessed repeatedly speak of something called the Dream. But they are inconclusive as of now."_

Alexia nodded, half-listening. It was an intriguing subject and the mention of the Dream sent a cold spear down her spine, but she had other things to worry about for the time being.

She already had a good idea on how to out-maneuver the Avenger team: her main advantage lay in the fact that they had no idea she knew they were there.

"Alright Art, listen up. Here's how we are going to proceed…"

And they had no idea she had access to everything in Tony Stark's possession.

This was going to be fun.

(0)

Night had barely finished falling. There was still a slight trace of light on the horizon, coloring the ocean in a variety of lovely hues. The air was still and heavy, but a slight chill was slowly settling in.

Alexia shivered as she stripped out of her ordinary clothes and tossed them aside. She opened her work suitcase and began rummaging inside, pulling out her gear. She'd taken a taxi to the outskirts of Buenaventura, abandoning her civil luggage behind a dumpster, knowing she wouldn't be coming back to claim it. She had taken only her work suitcase and had trekked on foot for several hours with Art's guidance, until she was a mere half-mile away from Jackson's manor on the Pacific coast. She waited there until the sun fell and started to get ready.

The clothes she pulled on were tight and black. They were made of lightly woven Kevlar, meant to be light and hard to pierce, and although they could not stop a bullet or close-ranged arrow, they could deflect a knife. On her chest, sewn into the cloth, she had thin metal plates of vibranium that overlapped for better mobility and could stop most calibers of bullets. Those plates only covered her heart and lungs however, considering she hadn't had enough to make them bigger; they had been part of the payment she'd received for stopping an uprising in Wakanda.

Her boots were made of supple, worn leather, thicker at the sole. They hugged her feet like a second skin and assured her she could move without making a sound and she slid two ordinary blades, sharp as razors, into holsters on the outside of her boots. Her vibranium blade went into a strap around her thigh and she slipped a small Ruger into a holster at her waist. She very rarely used the gun, as she worked in stealth and silence more often than not, but it was good to have in case of emergencies.

And in situations like today, emergencies could arise very fast.

Her gloves were works of art in themselves: thin plates of vibranium sewn into the knuckles for harder punches, the palms padded with thicker Kevlar to grasp blades while they remained light and dexterous. On her left wrist was a contraption of her own invention: resembling a miniature crossbow, the item allowed her to fire poison needles with over forty pounds of pressure per square inch and it was incredibly accurate. The needles were arranged along her inner left arm: five pain-poison ones, five paralyzing ones underneath and five deadly ones below those. On her right hand, a device inspired by a videogame of her liking hid a vibranium blade on her inner arm, which could be released towards her hand with a flick of her wrist in combat.

She pulled on a hard mask that covered her mouth and nose: it was a gas mask as much as a sound suppressor for when she needed to talk to Art without being heard. It filtered air around her at all times, giving her higher concentrations of oxygen for better endurance and burst attacks. The final piece of her work attire was a set of large goggles that used night vision and infra-red vision to help her see in the dark and could precisely calculate distances to her targets. Whatever she saw, Art saw as well, so she could guide her and inform her as she moved.

The gadgets she had had been acquired (more like stolen) over the years, mostly with Jonathan's help. He'd programmed Art into her goggles and mask and she'd found weapon smiths that had been able to complete the rest of her gear. It hadn't been a short or easy task, but contract after contract taught her what she needed and where she was lacking, so she could decide what it was exactly that she had to improve to become perfectly efficient at her job.

She closed the work suitcase with a snap.

"Let's go, Art. Time to fly." She smirked in her mask and rose to her feet.

Four small spy-copters popped out of the top of the case and zoomed out into the night without so much as a whisper. Those had been a gift from Jonathan on her previous birthday: they were incredibly useful, as Art controlled them and became four sets of eyes in the sky at all times.

 _Here we go._

(0)

Natasha Romanoff sighed softly as she made another round on the southern side of the manor. The evening was cooling down, insects were screaming and buzzing around and for the second night in a row, silence was nearly crushing the area. She wasn't one to fret, but truth was that she was slightly worried about this mission: their lack of intelligence on the assassin known as the Wolf was more than unnerving. S.H.I.E.L.D. did not know when the killer would strike, nor what they looked like, save a few quick pictures of terrible quality taken by security cameras before or after the assassin's previous strikes.

The team had been hastily assembled and debriefed while on the jet on the way to Columbia. They'd even pulled Clint out of his well-deserved retirement because Coulson felt the team lacked firepower with Bruce Banner missing… she tried not to think about the scientist, but it was not easy. There was still an ache in her heart when she thought of how he'd abandoned the team after Sokovia… how he'd abandoned her…

For the hundredth time that evening, she scanned the area. Her sight was sharp and she was tense, ready to react to any slight movement or sound. Thick walls surrounded the property, barbed wire running along the top. There were spotlights and cameras covering every possible angle of the manor and even so, they remained vigilant. Clint was on the roof, covering the area along with Falcon, while Stark and Rhodes were suited up and patrolling the northern and eastern sides. The Vision was on the western end, where the mansion overlooked the ocean, in case of an attack from the water. Steve and Wanda were within the mansion itself, accompanied by nearly twenty private body guards, each and every single one armed to the teeth.

They were more than ready.

Then why did she feel such dread deep within her gut? She couldn't help it: almost like a sixth sense, Natasha felt as though things were about to get out of hand.

 _It's just one assassin. Just one person. We have this under control._ She nodded and tried to reassure herself. The images of the Wolf they'd been shown left them pretty sure they were dealing with a woman, although the quality of the images was too bad to be one hundred percent sure. It was admirable… to have a single female cause such a stir within S.H.I.E.L.D…. Natasha had to give her some credit.

" _Anything on your end, Nat_?" Clint asked through their communication devices. She shrugged.

"Nothing here, boys. How about you?"

" _Not a whisper, not a sound. Maybe it was a false alarm?_ "

Natasha bit her lip. "No… I don't think so. Keep your eyes open and bide your time."

She heard a shuffle behind her: barely audible, it was like the brush of wings against the ground. But she heard it much, much too late.

As she pivoted, hand automatically reaching for her gun, Natasha understood that her gut feeling had been terribly right and things were about to get seriously out of hand.

The shape heading right for her was moving incredibly fast, those feet hitting the ground like feathers, barely making a sound. Such discreetness explained how the assassin had snuck up on her: she was just feet away!

Natasha hadn't even unclipped her weapon when the other woman struck out her left hand in front of her, pulling on something beneath her wrist with the right one. There was a flash of silver, and Nat felt a jab in her neck.

She coughed… or at least tried to… within the time of a single heartbeat, her body froze and she collapsed.

Alexia reached the woman just in time to grab her and ease her ever so gently on the ground: a fall would have made noise and attracted attention. She pulled the paralysing needle out of Natasha's throat as the woman stared at her with wide eyes, unable to move a single muscle in her body.

There was a door nearby. Alexia pulled the other woman to it and turned the knob, almost scoffing when she found it unlocked. As she entered the mansion, she glanced up at a camera that was filming straight at her, but it did not worry her: Art was in the system and freezing or looping the footage that could have caught sight of her.

Hopefully, whoever was looking at them wasn't paying too close attention: Natasha would vanish in a single shot as soon as Art unfroze the frame that had been filming her.

Considering the whole Avengers team was here, Alexia had no idea how she would have pulled this off without Artemis.

Natasha was still staring at her with accusing, spiteful eyes, but she ignored her and pushed her limp body into an empty closet nearby, shutting the door. The poison lasted about half an hour, but it would probably take less time for the alarm to be sounded if the members were regularly communicating with one another: Natasha could no longer answer.

"Art, launch War Machine. Reprogram him to attack Stark and Falcon. Stand by for another diversion."

" _At once, m'am._ "

The War Machine suit would be a breeze to hack and reprogram, as it was controlled by the United States government, which was lacking in the firewall protection department. She hoped the sudden assault would redirect attention away from her target long enough for her to strike.

She could take on a few of the team members. She couldn't take on all of them, however.

There was a loud explosion from outside and she understood her diversion had begun. Alexia rushed through the large home, switching her goggles from night vision to infra-red to detect targets faster.

She turned a corner where three guards were heading right for her. She was ready for them, a pain needle already locked and loaded in her tiny crossbow. It flew at and hit the first guard, who began screaming like a madman as the excruciating poison rushed through his body; the two others, startled by the reaction, were far too slow to dodge the two blades the girl threw at them simultaneously, hitting both in the eye and killing them instantly. The berserk guard threw himself out of a window in his torment and she saw him run flat-out across the yard, bellowing and attracting more attention.

 _Good._ She took her blades out of the bodies and kept moving.

" _Rhodes is keeping Stark and Falcon busy but Hawkeye has shot out one of the copters from the sky. They are on to you. The Vision is searching for Natasha and Steve Rogers is heading in your direction. I advise you avoid conflict with him, he would waste precious time. I cannot locate the one known as Wanda Maximoff, although I have confirmation that she is here."_

"Okay. Can you blow some fuses out, give me darkness?"

" _One moment_." There was a distance explosion that shook the whole building and everything went dark. Alex switched the goggles back to night vision. " _I had Rhodes blow up the power lines. Rogers is turning the corner. Take cover."_

Alexia was one step ahead: she could see in the darkness and the Captain could not; she slid under a nearby table like a ghost and patiently waited for him to rush by.

"Yeah, I'm on it. No, I don't see her and I haven't seen Romanoff. Stark, get Rhodes under control now or…"

She slid out of her hiding spot like a viper and ran up behind the man, withdrawing her vibranium blade. The girl had no desire to kill him, but she had to make sure he could no longer follow her, lest she fail her mission.

Unlike Natasha, Steve Rogers never even heard the Wolf. She plunged her blade with all her might into the side of his leg, slicing the tissues viciously as he went down with a grunt. He swung his shield and caught her in the side, swatting her away painfully, but she had taken the hit in order to reach up and pull him communicator out of his ear. She crushed it in her hand, getting up to face him.

The man couldn't rise, copious amounts of blood pouring out of his wounded leg, so he threw his shield at her with all his remaining force.

There was a very strange sensation: it was as though she could feel the shield as it moved towards her, even though she could see it… it was as though it was not only an object, but an energy… or rather, as though its movement through the world was creating energy she could sense deep within her soul.

Almost stunned, moving as though she was in a dream, she reached towards the speeding shield and caught it effortlessly, preventing it from bashing her head in.

Alexia could see the look of abashed disbelief on Steve's face as he saw what she did in the pale light of the moon shining through a window. He'd never seen anyone moving fast enough to stop his weapon, least of all with such little effort.

She chucked it with all her might, sending it spinning through a window and out into the night.

The young woman was gone before Rogers could blink and he collapsed onto the ground, putting pressure on his leg to stop the bleeding. He had some trouble believing what had just happened.

Alexia rushed onward through the mansion, stopping only once to hide from several guards who were running and shouting, blind in the darkness. She remembered the plans to the house to a fault and it took her mere minutes to reach the master bedroom, hoping they had been stupid enough to let Jackson sleep in the most obvious place.

She opened the door and slipped in like a shadow.

He was sitting in the king sized bed, pulling the covers up to his chest, terror filling his eyes. Art launched a facial recognition software through the goggles to confirm who they were dealing with.

"Please…" He stuttered, shuffling further back into the pillows, as though he was hoping to vanish amidst them.

" _Recognition software confirms this is the target._ "

It was what she was waiting for. Alexia loaded a death needle into her mini crossbow and aimed it at the horrified, cowering man in the bed.

"Stop right there." A voice snapped sharply, heavy with a Slavic accent, as a young woman dressed in red emerged from a shadowy corner of the room. Points to her: Alexia hadn't seen her at all.

The assassin glanced at Wanda Maximoff, evaluating the situation. Of course they would station the member with powerful control powers right with the target! What better way to keep him safe than protecting him with a force that could not be countered? Alexia swore at herself, furious… she'd hoped not to even cross Maximoff, as she had no real idea how to stop her unique abilities. It had been a stupid oversight to not consider she'd be the final obstacle to her target.

The two women stared at each other coldly for several seconds.

The poison needle already in her crossbow, Alexia saw no other choice: she had one opportunity to strike and she had to take it, no matter the cost.

She moved, lightning-fast, aligning herself with Maximoff and pulled the mechanism to launch the needle right at her neck. The other woman threw out her hands, a red force appearing in front of her like a shield: the needle stuck it and went astray.

 _No._ Dread grasped Alexia's heart as, unarmed and unprepared for this, she could only watch as the Red Witch threw out her hands again, brow furrowed in concentration, sending more red filaments flying towards her.

Alexia's hand shot out as a reflex, fingers spread wide to somehow stop the red force as it rushed towards her…

The first filaments circled her fingers, grasping her with iron strength and then…

She felt it again. The world was like a dream. She could _sense_ the red energy, could feel it from where it touched her gloves all the way to where it was emanating from Maximoff. And she understood she could interact with it: she could bend it to her will! Because it existed within another energy… an energy that was her own…

She didn't think. She acted. Willed the filaments to vanish, to let go.

They flickered and disappeared.

Wanda's jaw dropped as she gasped, taking an immediate step back.

Alexia had trained for years, hard and relentless, to be able to react faster than she could think. As such, she moved almost like a machine and dashed towards the other woman, swinging her fist with all her weight behind it, carefully aiming right at Wanda's temple.

The blow fell like a wall of bricks, the woman's head snapped back and she fell down in a heap, out cold.

Alexia suddenly felt exhausted, as though all the strength she had left had been sucked right out of her, but she shook her head briskly and kept moving. Now was not the time to even slightly slow down. She had to get this over with.

She loaded another needle into her cross bow and turned to face her target.

The man had struggled out of his bed, wearing nothing more than pajama pants, but had tangled himself up in the sheets and had fallen to the ground, fighting to get back up.

As he saw her approach, a meek whimper escaped his lips and he tried to shuffle backwards, but was still caught in the sheets.

The needle flew. Hit him right in the jugular.

It took two heart beats and he collapsed, dead.

" _M'am. The Vision is on his way. Barton is mobilizing and the Falcon was able to pull away from the fight with Rhodes and is coming in your direction. I advise you vacate the area at once._ "

"Moving. Art, mobilize Mark 42 and send it to me. Hurry."

" _At once._ "

She took a few steps back away from the large windowed doors that gave to a balcony outside and ran towards them at full sprint. Alexia burst through the glass like a bull, knowing it was no longer time for stealth.

There was a ground-shaking explosion nearby and she briefly saw Stark in his Iron Man suit fighting relentlessly against War Machine. She caught sight of Falcon closing in fast on her right so she pulled a blade from her boot and threw it at him as he chucked an explosive at her. The two collided in mid-air, closer to him and the deflagration sent him off course and crashing to the ground.

On her left, the Vision. She jumped up on the parapet of the balcony and leapt down, narrowly avoiding the Vision's energy beam as it blasted apart the structure she'd been standing on moments before. Something smelled singed and she briefly wondered if it was her hair.

The moment her feet hit the ground, she had that strange sensation for the third time that night: she felt the world around her as energy. She rolled forward and stood up, launching herself into a front flip without question: she could feel something was closing in fast on her left and the only way should could avoid it was by vaulting over it.

Barton's arrow missed her by a hair. He'd aimed it so it would perforate her midsection when she got up and moved forward, but her front flip brought her ever so slightly over it and she kept running as though nothing had happened.

The sheer shock of what he had just witnessed prevented him from firing again. He stared at her for a moment, jaw dropped.

"God damnit! Friday, why is the Mark 42 launching, what the hell is going on?" Stark was screaming through the communication system and everything was slowly collapsing into utter chaos. Barton was having sever trouble understanding just what on earth had happened in the past ten minutes. Or had it been longer? It felt like a lifetime.

"Art, get the armor to me!" Alexia bellowed, aiming a pain dart at the Vision over her shoulder, blindly. It did not hit, but forced his energy beam off course once again, saving her life.

" _I cannot maintain control over War Machine as well as Mark 42. Friday is reprograming him and erecting new firewalls. It is going to be one or the other."_

"Mark 42. I need it to get out. Hurry!"

Alexia dodged another of Barton's arrows, which she'd sensed at the very last moment and it scraped along her arm, cutting through the Kevlar and drawing blood. She was heading right for the cliff that overlooked the ocean, which was a two hundred foot vertical drop below.

Mark 42 hadn't reached her yet and she was all out of time.

Not even slowing, Alexia launched herself off the cliff and into emptiness.

(0)

And I'm launching myself into a cliffy because this chapter is long enough!

Reviews or I swear to Hell, I'm not going to update for like… the longest time! I'll sit on the next chapter like a damned hen.

Cuz Imma start writing it right now.


	10. But they are not beyond pain

Let's get this show on the road!

Thank you very much for the reviews!

(0)

Time slowed to a crawl. Her breath caught in her chest as she stared straight down, two hundred feet down, into the aggressive motion of the agitated ocean. If she hit the water from this height, she would die.

If the impact did not kill her, her broken body would surely be smashed against the jagged cliff by unrelenting waves and she would drown. There was no scenario where she walked out of this alive… her life seemed to pass before her eyes in a flash and she found her heart squeezing at the thought of her friend, whom she'd turned her back on, abandoned… left behind… how she missed him… she would never get to see him again…

The Mark 42 armor collided with her like a wall of bricks, opening up briefly to mold itself around her body before closing up again to keep her safe. She heard one of Barton's arrows bounce off the metal plates and the Vision's energy beam hit her square in the back, sending her flying forward with a gasp.

Art was in control, however, and the moment the armor closed around the girl, she launched the visual system in the helmet and activated the thrusters, flying them off over the ocean. Alexia was half-screaming, half-swearing as she tried to stabilize her flight, never having done this before. It was pretty hard and she spiraled out of control on several occasions while she tried to place her hands and feet appropriately… which was just as good, because it allowed several explosive shots from Iron Man, War Machine and the Falcon to hit nothing but air.

"Christ, Art! Give me a hand with this!" She screeched as a miscalculated move sent her plunging towards the waters.

" _Erratic flight currently allows you to dodge most of the attacks headed your way. I fear that a stabilized flight will allow them to hit you._ "

She straightened out and flew up. "Forget dodging, I need to get away! The Falcon can't keep up if we go supersonic and neither can the Vision. War Machine is too damaged, so that leaves only Stark. Do something!"

" _At once._ "

She felt the suit position itself on its own and she went limp to allow it to do so. The thrusters gave a booming explosion as all power was redirected to them and with an ear-shattering explosion, they broke the sound barrier.

Alexia was laughing, she couldn't help herself. There was something incredibly exhilarating about this sort of flight: it was nothing like airplanes! She zoomed up higher and higher, leaving the world behind: this was so much fun!

Until Stark pulled up next to her, matching her speed with ease.

"Land. Now." He ordered, his voice allowing no reply.

She aimed her hand at him and Art launched a missile.

Stark dodged it with ease and she veered back towards the coast, her expression grim.

She'd fucked up. She knew that now. There was no way she could out-maneuver the entire team… the Wolf had bitten off more than it could chew, apparently. There was little left for her to do but either fight to the death or surrender… whichever they would accept first.

"Listen up, Art. I need you to back up your files to a safe location. Preferably to Jonathan. If the house is discovered, I need you to self-destruct everything. Blow the place to shreds. They cannot get their hands on your servers. If they catch me, keep listening in on the conversations around me and find ways to assist me. If they kill me…" She sighed, praying that wouldn't happen. "If they kill me, find a way to contact Hugh. Only him, no one else. Not his wife, not his kids. Tell him I love him. I always did and always will. And I regret every moment I was away from him."

" _Understood._ "

Alexia set her jaw and aimed at War Machine, straight in front of her. She fired an energy beam at the same time as he did and the resulting explosion sent both of them flying. She grunted from the shockwave, stabilized her flight and took the Vision's energy beam right to the side.

The armor lost power momentarily and the screen went dark. When it buzzed back online, she was feet away from the ocean and just barely managed to activate the thrusters fast enough to skim the water and keep heading towards the coast. Her body was in pain: the blows she'd taken had only been minimized by the metal around her.

The Falcon came flying at her, and Art pulled up a warning that she was being targeted… Stark was above her, she had his missile incoming…

"ART OPEN THE SUIT!"

Mark 42 burst open and she dropped out of it and into the water a few feet below. She actually bounced off the waves like a thrown rag doll, grunting as pain shot through her entire body, before breaking the surface and plunging into the ocean. The Falcon's and Iron man's explosives hit the armor, avoiding her entirely.

Alexia swam up gingerly, wincing as pain shot through her back and leg. Hopefully nothing was broken, but she was sceptical. As soon as she broke the surface, bobbing in the agitated ocean, she saw the Vision floating close by, his expression grave. Stark, Rhodes and Wilson joined him, circling her.

"End of the line for you." Stark growled, pointing at her. "Do you want to die, or are you going to come willingly?"

 _Tough choice._ She mused grimly, but raised her hands slightly as she struggled to stay afloat. The Vision floated down to her, grabbed her by those hands and pulled her out of the water. They were not far from the coast, thankfully… hanging in the air by her arms was excruciatingly painful.

They made it to a beach where she saw, with some alarm, an impressive force of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had amassed, weapons trained on her. The Vision dropped her from a few feet onto the pale sand and she landed with a grunt and flash of pain in her leg… something was definitely broken in there.

There was a large jet stationed nearby. Within it she saw a very pale Steve Rogers, his leg bandaged as he stood leaning on a very disgruntled Natasha Romanoff. Standing behind them, holding ice to her head, was Wanda Maximoff. Clint Barton marched out of the jet to join the remaining Avengers on the beach, an arrow ready to fire in his bow.

Two men walked up to her slowly, watching her with some apprehension. One was dark-skinned, not very young and wearing an eye patch; his face was hard to read, but it was clearly not amused. The other man was slightly balding, but moved with dexterity that betrayed a good physical training and he seemed just as pissed as eye-patch.

"Hold her and disarm her." He ordered briskly. Falcon and War Machine moved forward at once, seizing her by the arms to pull her up and hold her in place, while Stark removed her gun and blades from their holsters and tossed them over to Barton. She was snarling in her mask from the pain in her back and legs, but made no sound.

Ungently, Stark removed the hidden blade on her right wrist and the small crossbow on her left, along with her poison needles. His armored fingers slipped under her mask and ripped it off, but it was not until he pulled the goggles from her eyes that he realised who he was dealing with.

"No…" He stepped back. His helmet opened so he could get a better look at her, but it made no difference: he knew what he saw. Their eyes stayed locked and she allowed herself to look amused, even through her pain, while he gaped. "It can't be… you…" He was at a loss for words.

"Looks like we're going to have to postpone the vodka yet another time, Mister Stark." She sneered, not at all in the mood to spare his feelings.

"You know this woman?" Eye-patch demanded, coming forward to look at her as well.

"Fucking…" Tony started, looking half-pissed and half-alarmed.

"Is exactly what we were doing last time we saw each other, if I remember correctly." Alexia quipped, grimacing from the pain as Rhodes' hand tightened around her arms in warning and her back protested.

There was a moment a stunned silence.

"You were…" The man next to eye-patch glanced at Stark.

Who raised his hands defensively. "Coulson, you remember I told you I needed someone to help me look into that ghost of a woman who came to my tower, right? Well… this is her."

"You're kidding." Coulson said in a voice that meant he thought this was anything but a joke.

"There are no coincidences in this world, my good man. See it how you want, I think…"

"Quiet." Coulson snapped at her. He turned to eye-patch. "What now, Fury?"

That one eye was starting at her in a manner most unnerving. If she was right and this was former director Nick Fury, she was in trouble. There were rumors, more like whispers, that he had a secret facility from the time he was running S.H.I.E.L.D., which he used to break even the staunchest of spies and assassins to find out how they operated and how to counter them. She didn't want to end up there… it would be a fate worse than death.

"Pack her up. We have questions that need answering and she's going to have plenty of answers to give us before the night is out."

With that, he turned away and marched off to the jet, Coulson following.

Two agents came forth with heavy manacles that fit tightly over her hands and encased them into thick metal cylinders. They locked with a click and she knew there was no getting out of those.

Wilson and Rhodes let her go and she couldn't help it, she fell to the ground with a pained cry as she tried to place weight on her hurt leg, landing gingerly on those heavy manacles.

"What's wrong with you?" Stark demanded suspiciously, coming closer.

"You mean other than a broken leg and a few shattered ribs? Plenty." She snapped back, colder than she'd intended. The pain really was getting to her.

He was scowling, but picked her up rather gently nonetheless and carried her back to the jet.

She didn't meet his gaze, feeling a certain amount of anger and shame.

(0)

The flight was uneventful and excruciatingly silent. None of the looks she received from the Avengers team were remotely pleasant: Barton, Wilson and Romanoff stared at her with unbridled suspicion. Rogers and Rhodes wore looks akin to hate. Maximoff glanced at her nervously, with a fair amount of fear on her face… neither of them understood how and why her powers had failed her in that room. The Vision looked as though he was trying to pierce into her mind through her eyes to find out what she was thinking about.

Stark might have worn the worst look of them all: somewhat amazed, somewhat betrayed, he stared at her with a furrowed brow and a dark gaze.

She kept her eyes down and her mouth shut.

Truthfully, she was exhausted. She would have gladly closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, but it was simply impossible for the time being. Alexia gritted her teeth against the growing pain in her leg and back and tried to focus on something else.

So she found herself thinking about the previous hours, mainly about the strange sensations that had saved her life several times. She'd stopped Rogers's shield with ease, turned off Wanda's powers and dodged an unstoppable arrow from Barton… she tried to understand how she'd managed to do those things, but came up short. The sensation she'd felt… as though the world was energy and she could interact with it… it was slightly similar to those moments when she'd had a sixth sense that warned her of danger, but it wasn't quite the same.

The more she thought of it, the more she felt as though she'd lived through and sensed something very similar before. But for the time being she was unable to place where and what that had been…

Art kept her cautiously updated about their location, keeping an eye on the jet. She also informed her that the three remaining spy-copters had successfully attached themselves to the plane carrying her and were available for visual support when they landed.

It was the only reassuring thing in this whole situation, because the girl had no idea where she was going or what was in store for her.

And she had no idea how she would ever be capable to get out of this tight spot…

They hit some turbulence and the jet shook. The jolt pierced through her leg and she snarled, unable to stop herself from reacting to the jab of pain. She could feel the limb swelling and pain was irradiating through her back; it was getting hard to take deep breaths.

Stark stared at her intently, but she could tell he was debating whether he should assist her or not. It made her doubly furious: she stared back with barely veiled anger, daring him to move or speak. She wanted none of his pity.

Coulson noted her pain.

"You'll be given medical attention as soon as you tell us who you are and who you're working with, when we land."

She turned her glacier gaze on him. "That might take a while then. If I'm lucky, I'll drown in my own internal bleeding before."

Wanda gasped softly, shocked by her coldness. But she was the only one: the other members were seasoned veterans, they had seen obtuse determination before…

And they had seen it break.

(0)

" _They have taken you to the Avengers base in New York. I will not be able to access the internal security system for some time without triggering alarms, but I have launched the spy-copters and have a visual on the outside for the time being. If an opportunity to escape presents itself, I will inform you of it."_ Art said almost gently.

Alexia wanted to scream: even if an opportunity came up, she didn't think she'd be able to take it… not wounded as she was.

" _In other news, Stark has tasked Friday to find the source of the hacking that took over Mark 42 and War Machine. I have managed to redirect her search for now, but am seeking another source that could take the blame. I will do all I can to keep them away from myself and from you._ "

She supressed a sigh. The jet landed with a jolt and she shut her eyes, gritting her teeth against the pain… her leg was swollen around the knee, tight in her Kevlar suit, and she could only take short, panting breaths. Things were definitely not getting better.

They unbuckled her form her seat and two agents dressed in black seized her roughly to drag her out of the jet. Stark seemed to want to step in to help, but held back when she bared her teeth at him.

She managed to hobble along on a single leg briefly, but the motion sent sharp needles of pain through her back, so she settled for being half-carried, half-dragged across a perfectly manicured lawn and to stout, grey building.

Behind her, she heard them talking.

"… understand, why bring her here, of all places?" Rogers was limping alongside Coulson and Fury, helped by Natasha.

"This will suit for the time being. We have a contention cell available here and I would rather she was contained until we can get a better of idea of what we are dealing with, considering what happened back there." Coulson explained, walking right past her as though she didn't exist.

Wanda was next to him and glanced at Alexia briefly. "You mean what happened with me?"

"Not just you. She… well, let's get her inside first." Rogers stole a glance at her as well, as they entered the building.

Alexia couldn't help but feel as though this had gone from bad to worse.

And she thought it couldn't get any worse, until she coughed and blood spilled from her mouth.

"Ah, fuck." She snapped, unable to wipe the oozing redness from her chin, courtesy of the two agents harrying her by the arms.

They all turned to look at her and she saw various eyebrows rise at the sight.

"You're coughing up blood." Stark said at once, moving forward. She would have answered something snappy, but another cough brought up more droplets of blood. "You have trouble breathing. Pain in the chest?"

She shook her head, still suspended between the agents, although they had stopped walking. "No, the back."

He moved behind her and pressed his still-armored hands against her lower back, rising slowly, prodding as he went. When he reached half-way across her ribcage, his harsh fingers pressed the vibranium plates, but something moved underneath them and she half-gasped, half-chocked as pain shot up her spine and more blood erupted with a cough. One of the impacts she took must have hit at just the right angle to transfer the blow to her ribs between two protective plates.

"She has at least one broken rib perforating a lung. Might wanna look into that if you want to keep her around for questioning longer than the next half hour, Agents. I doubt she has longer than that left…" He glanced from Coulson and Fury and back at her, a glint of amazement in his eyes. "Even though she should already be dead."

That did not make her feel any better. She was feeling increasingly exhausted and feeble and her head was starting to spin… whether it was panic or her lung collapsing, she wasn't sure. The director and former director exchanged a look. She didn't like it one bit: she could tell they were having a mute conversation on how to proceed…

"Can you operate on her, Stark?" Fury demanded.

Tony would have scoffed, but he knew the man was serious. "With little to no equipment: sure, why not? Who needs her alive, anyways? But seriously, if the Green Rage Machine had been here, he could have helped… maybe not in Green Rage Machine mode, but he's the physician. I'm not."

"You're the genius here, Stark." Fury shrugged.

Steve stepped in, a look of disbelief on his face. "You can't be serious. She's a murdering, dangerous assassin, but she's a POW. And last time I checked, America was a civilised enough country to at least give basic human rights to its prisoners."

"To prisoners maybe, but not to blatant killers." Coulson snapped. "We need her alive for questioning, but I won't risk moving her to a hospital, where she can endanger other civilians. We have had enough casualties. Either wash up and fix her, Stark, or let her die. It's on you."

She would have gladly quipped something in her defence, but it was beyond her strength now. She could only watch and wait as the silence in the room grew heavy and dangerous… Wanda, Clint, and Natasha were looking at Rogers with support while Wilson and Rhodes stood by Fury, unmoving.

Finally, the Vision stepped closer, looking at her intently.

"I have some knowledge on human physiognomy, I can assist you, Tony. If Wanda feels up to it, her powers would greatly help us mend bone and cauterize the wound."

The young Sokovian girl seemed momentarily lost for words, but she shot a glance at Alexia and it became clear she would not bear responsibility for her death. She stepped forward with a nod.

"We have no anesthetic." Stark said slowly, glancing at her. She would have gladly proposed some hard liquor, but another fit of coughing almost chocked her.

Coulson shrugged with a coldness that filled her heart with dread. "No need. Maybe the pain will loosen her tongue."

(0)

They dragged her to a large table and pulled her up on it on her belly, removing the manacles that bound her hands for the time being. They seemed to no longer consider her in any shape to flee, and she understood why: her condition was getting worse by the minute. She no longer coughed, but blood oozed from her mouth nonetheless. Breathing had become laborious at best and she felt the world around her slipping from consciousness…

Stark was saying something nearby, but she couldn't focus on the words anymore. Something cold pressed to her skin behind her neck and she vaguely understood they were cutting away the Kevlar suit… by the slow, dragging motion, it was with her own vibranium blade. They struggled with the protective plates on her back, but someone figured out where to cut to get her loose and before she knew it, she was shivering, naked from the waist up, on the cold table.

She felt hands grab her around the wrists and ankles and knew at once this was going to a long, horrific experience.

Alexia had been tortured before: a misstep during a murder contract against a rival biker gang had gotten her caught. The men there did not lack for ideas when came to time to make someone suffer and she got a good taste of her own medicine. It had been excruciating and terrifying, but one thought kept her going: they would eventually fuck up and underestimate her and she would slaughter them all.

It had taken two weeks of burns to her skin, punches to every inch of her body, blades carving out her back and men raping her, but she had endured, biding her time and feeding her wrath. And they had eventually fucked up, thinking her broken and no longer able to fight.

She'd fallen upon them like a nightmare. She tore them to shreds, animated by a fury she never thought she could feel. She'd made them scream and bed for mercy. She'd laughed at their terror and had torched the place to the ground, leaving nothing but mangled corpses in her wake.

This was going to be worse, she knew it. For one, she had no _desire_ to kill anyone present.

For another, _they were trying to help her._

That single thought was almost too much for her…

When the sharp blade sliced into her back, cold and cruel, she gritted her teeth so hard she thought they would shatter. Her hand curled into fists so fast that her nails broke her palms in seconds. She felt tears well up in her eyes and a scream rose to her throat, but she swallowed it miserably.

Someone pulled back her head and placed an oxygen mask over her mouth, tightening it harshly. The air pushed into her lungs, which suddenly felt on fire.

Suddenly, Coulson's face was inches from hers, placid and calm. And she understood that after all, there _was_ someone here she would like to kill.

"Tell me who you are and I can make the pain stop. I can have morphine delivered here in a flash. That's up to you. Who are you?"

She stared at him, feeling the knife cut anew with frightening detail. She could almost _hear_ the skin slicing apart. Her eyes were wide, feral and bloodshot from the pain, but she wasn't struggling in the least.

She decided it was past time to scream.

The howl that erupted from her mouth gave everyone a jolt a surprise and it took Wanda every inch of courage to stay put and not flee from the room. She was using her powers, Vision guiding her with gentle words, to pull apart and hold the skin Stark was slicing open. The sight of blood didn't bother her, but the sound that came out of the woman's mouth was a thing of nightmares.

And yet she did not struggle. She wasn't moving at all against the four burly agents that were pining her to the table.

She coughed more blood and stopped bellowing, but her lips were pulled back from her teeth in an animal snarl, which was all the more terrifying with the redness oozing out of her mouth. She had long been called the Wolf, but would have never thought that this would be one of the reasons why.

Her consciousness flickered as the skin over the broken rib was pulled back to expose the bone.

Stark was staring at it, pale. The Vision nudged him slightly to remind him he wasn't alone in this.

"It's fractured inward, but still holding. We will need to pull it out of the lung. Wanda, focus on stopping any bleeding veins and arteries you see. Pull the lung back together, I will cauterize the tissue with my energy beam. Then, mend the bone. After that, we can sew her right up and it'll be done."

He sounded so calm that Alexia almost started laughing. She could feel panic and hysteria rising like bile in her throat and just barely managed to swallow them, forcing herself to focus, to relax…

Coulson appeared in front of her again.

"This is going to hurt beyond anything you have ever experienced. Give me your name and I will make the pain stop. What is your name?"

She stared him right in the eyes.

" _Gofuckyourself_." She hissed into her oxygen mask with a single breath.

Next thing she knew, someone was pulling on her fucking bone. There was a fucking hand on her fucking rib. The pain that shot through her entire body was truly beyond anything she had ever felt, strangling her with the sheer, unbridled fire that it was. She was going to die… this was it… it wasn't possible to be consumed by agony in such a way and live… it was impossible…

And she had never, ever been so thank for the sweet mercy of unconsciousness as it came to claim her with sweet, enveloping arms.

(0)

Well this took a turn I had no originally planned. I have a vague outline of where this is going, but no more.

Hope you liked it!


	11. Blood and fire

Sorry if this update took time, I had to get to a certain tier in PvP in a game I play and I had till Monday, so all my time went towards that.

Thank you so much for the reviews! They make my day!

(0)

 _She saw herself. Naked from the waist up, laying there on a table. It felt… strange…_

 _She could see them pulling a bone out of her lung. Incredible detail on Tony Stark's face as he scowled, focused. Wanda as she gritted her teeth, channeling her red powers with precision. The Vision as he guided her and fired that beam to burn her wound shut._

 _Coulson screaming, calling for someone to bring… she couldn't hear his words…_

Dream Rider. _A voice called._

 _She turned. It was a strange feeling: she had no body, it was as though her consciousness turned. Just like in a dream._

 _The figure clad in the black cloak. It was frozen, unmoving. Frightening._

Twice you called me that. What do you want? _She was not afraid. Death did not frighten her. And this was not death._

 _The figure moved ever so closer, the cloak still unmoving._

You.

 _The world around them vanished. She willed it to. It seemed so very easy, all of a sudden._

 _She glimpsed the outline of a face, of sorts, under the figure's hood. It looked around, impressed, as her city built itself from the ground up out of the white nothingness she'd brought them to._

This is my place. You cannot have me. Leave.

I will. But you should know I can help you.

 _She stayed silent. Did she have a face that could betray her emotion? She did not know. When she tried to bring up her hands, there was nothing. That frightened her._

 _Around her, the city formed. People appeared. She looked far off, to the tower that rose all the way into space. The figure followed her gaze._

Do you know what you are?

 _She was intrigued, truth be told._

No. Yes. Maybe.

 _She could have sworn it was smirking._

You are a champion. A chosen. The one who channels the force that exists between Everything and Nothing.

 _She realised they were moving towards the tower. She was gliding slowly and he was gliding with her. Was she moving them? Or were they moving on their own?_

I don't understand…

You will. In time.

 _Something was pulling at her the other way… she felt urgency. She needed to go back._

 _But she was curious. Wanted to understand… she struggled to stay._

Go. Next time. You'll see. I'll show you.

 _It was a promise. But it made her furious. This was her world! She decided-_

 _It was though sometime grasped her by the deepest inside of her soul and yanked her away._

(0)

"I have a pulse!" Someone bellowed. Her ears were filled with cotton… they might as well have been whispering.

She felt hands lift off her chest and something pull off her skin, but it was painless… she was beyond pain now.

A face appeared above her, blotting out the harsh light. She squinted, but it was so hard to focus…

"You're back. Stay back. Please."

Was that… Stark?

She looked to the side, feeling the pinch of the oxygen mask pressed tightly to her face.

Someone was grabbing her arm. Sticking a needle with a tube in it… a translucent substance flowed in.

Another needle into the tube. Another substance.

This one knocked her out.

There were no dreams.

(0)

Alexia came to very slowly.

For a very brief moment, she existed in that blissful place where she had no idea where she was, no memories of what had happened… there was nothing but emptiness and serenity. Nothing but silence and calmness…

Then the pain hit her like a wall.

She gritted her teeth and took a slow, deep breath. That seemed to bring in more pain, so she took in a shorter gasp of air. There was a general ache pulsing through her being: it seemed no part of her wasn't mangled. She assessed the situation: let the flood of memories and thoughts hurry back in.

It came back to her in a rush. The assassination. The botched escape. Stark realizing who she was. The flight to Avengers HQ. Her rib… the pain seemed to peak at the thought, but as she focused and calmed down, she found it was much lesser than before. She remembered her knee and tried to move it. It wouldn't.

Only then did she realise she was contained.

They had seated her in some sort of capsule: it was made mostly out of glass or some other transparent material and reinforced with metal. The contraption she was sitting in bound her hands and legs in metal containers so she couldn't move or see them. Something secured her neck so she wasn't able to move her head to left or right, but her mouth wasn't covered, so she could talk. There was still a tube with a needle going into her arm: she could see the small hose go into the cylinder that covered her left arm and could feel the needle biting into her skin, further down. Alexia couldn't tell what it was pumping into her: whatever it was connect to was out of her line of sight.

Around her, the room was large and made of concrete. There was a single door facing her, with an office chair right in front of the capsule. Cameras trained on her in both corners she could see; she couldn't look behind, but would have bet an arm there were two more.

 _Well this is bad_. She thought grimly, trying not to let panic take a hold of her. It was hard. The impossibility to move, the confining capsule, the bare, menacing walls… everything seemed to be closing in around her suddenly and it took her a moment to calm down and control herself.

Her ear buzzed and she almost sighed in relief.

" _Good evening, m'am. Glad to see you have awoken._ " Art chimed. Were she a person and present, Alexia would have kissed her. It was wonderful to know she was not alone, not truly. " _You are still at Avengers headquarters, as they would not risk moving you. You have been unconscious for forty-eight hours after the surgery performed by Mister Stark, but from what I have understood by overhearing their conversations, no lasting damage has been caused to your person. You are expected to recover fully. The rib perforating your lung has been put back into place and the wound cauterized. There was a severe sprain to your knee, but it would appear they have treated that was well, not to mention a few cuts and scraped from your battle. I have been unable to penetrate the security system working of S.H.I.E.L.D. and am as such not capable of freeing you._ "

Alexia felt her heart drop. She'd been counting on Art to get her out… and if her knee had only been sprained, she could theoretically flee this place. She couldn't confirm if it was still painful, because the contention around her leg was so tight it could have been glued to her skin, but she figured a sprain could be worked around for an escape…

" _However, I was able to access the security cameras through a link to Friday. As such, I have a view of the compound and can keep you up to date on what is being said and done._ "

 _Well there's that at least…_ The girl mused. She wondered what would become of her now.

" _Agent Coulson has noted your awakening and is on his way. Mister Stark is with him and the others are watching you through the cameras. I will continue to seek a manner to assist you. Best of luck."_

Alexia realized how human Art had become… this was the first time she had ever wished her luck.

The girl waited patiently and tried to act surprised when the door opened and Coulson walked in, followed by Stark. She wasn't supposed to know they were on their way…

The agent pushed the chair in front of her aside so both men stood before her contention cell, looking grim.

"How are you feeling?" Coulson finally asked. She noted that Stark looked somewhat concerned and she wasn't quite sure how she should feel about that.

"I've seen better days…" She said slowly, testing out her voice. It was raspy; she cleared her throat and winced as it put strain on her back wound.

"You died." Stark intervened brusquely. "Your heart stopped beating, do you know that? We had to perform CPR for over five minutes and defibrillate you to bring you back. So. Who are you? What are you? And who are you protecting that's worth dying for?"

The silence that followed was oppressing. He was posing a good question: was the likes of Herving worth her dying to preserve the confidentiality of their contract? There was a certain amount of honor if her work: she was trained to never reveal information about her sources or bosses, not even under formidable amounts of pain… as she had shown Coulson when they cut her back open. She took some pride in her obtuse silence.

But then again, she felt she owed it to Stark to at least let him know one of his shareholders was a dangerous man. She'd refused a contract to kill him… what had driven that decision, if not the desire to protect Stark to some degree? As to why she wanted to protect him… that was not a question she felt like looking into.

"I'm not going to tell you who I am. Not now, at least. Maybe not ever. But…" She sighed, choosing her words with care. "It can be worth one's time to investigate into people who are easy to impersonate, and those who hire them. Take that as you will." She glanced at Stark placidly at those words and was glad to see a spark light up in his eyes. The man was a genius after all: his mind was working overtime every second of his life. He was fast.

Coulson frowned at her suspiciously. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged. Winced at the bolt of pain in her back. "Nothing I suppose. You know who I am. I am the Wolf. You know what I do: it's no secret. There isn't much more to me, unfortunately. I'm a very boring person."

Coulson was unamused, but Stark let a tiny smirk twitch the corner of his lips, barely visible.

"You're never getting out of here. We have places, dark places, where people like you can vanish for the rest of their lives. The world will forget you exist. But you won't. We'll make sure of that. If you won't tell us who you are and who you work for, we'll pull it out of you, inch by inch. There will be no rest and no mercy until we have what we want. So you have two choices: you can assist us now and we can strike a deal for your freedom, or I can let Fury drag you screaming into the last darkness you will ever experience."

His words did strike fear in her. But she would never let him know. Not even if she ended up in that place of his. She was the Wolf.

"You have it backwards, agent." She smiled humorlessly. "I have nothing. I am nothing. There is nothing in this world for me to live for ( _oh what a lie, what a lie!_ ). No one to go back to, no one who will miss me or care if I vanish. I have faced pain and agony and despair. I have signed away my humanity in blood and fire, in love and hate and every breath in between. I have been raped, tortured, beaten, betrayed, flayed and burned. I have stared Death in the face as it stared back and I did not blink. As such, there is nothing you can threaten me with. No pain, no horror you can inflict on me that would make me do something I do not want to do. Drag me to Hell if you will, but know that I will go willingly, without a sound. I have been there before. I have been there for years."

This time the silence was truly heavy. Somehow, Coulson had no idea what to answer to that. Stark stared at her, mouth slightly agape, taken aback by the calculated coldness with which she spoke: they might have been talking about battle strategy for all the emotion she showed.

Finally, the agent chose a different path. "Then let's discuss that power of yours. What is it?"

She scoffed. "Is that what you're calling it? A power? This at least I can answer truthfully and tell you I have no idea. I didn't take it seriously until it allowed me to stop the Maximoff girl… and that was… what? A few days ago?"

"You have no idea what you're doing?" Stark questioned.

"I thought it was intuition. I still think it is. Nothing to get excited about…"

But then she remembered her dream and hesitated. That figure in the cloak… it had called her Dream Rider. It had talked about her being… what was it again? She couldn't remember…

"Well that will be one of the first things we'll try to find out about you then. Since you have no idea what it could be, we can offer a various battery of tests, none of them pleasant, to try and trigger a response. And we have a lifetime to discover what-…"

Coulson was cut short by a sudden bang and vibration that shook the whole room, directly above their heads. Both men glanced up, alarmed, and the agent pulled out an ear piece.

"What just happened?" He demanded.

Alexia's ear buzzed.

" _The Demi-God Thor has just landed through the Bifrost Bridge on the premises. He's escorted by several other Asgardians_." Art informed her rapidly.

The girl stayed emotionless, watching Coulson as he nodded gravely and glanced at Stark.

"With me." He ordered, leading the other, curious man out of the room.

But not before Tony shot one last look at her. She smirked, eyes sparkling.

Something was going on.

This was going to be fun.

(0)

Sorry for the shortness, but I wanna post something for you guys!

Please review and let me know if you like the story! I really like reading your comments!


	12. The great escape

As always, many thanks for the reviews it's so much fun to read them! I'm glad everyone seems to enjoy the story so far. The more I give it thought, the more I figure out exactly where I'm going with it.

(0)

She stayed silent in the oppressing cement room, flexing the muscles in her body slowly. There was pain, but it was starting to become very bearable; she'd always had a very high threshold.

It wasn't long before the bionic ear drum vibrated and she tensed slightly, rapt and ready to start looking for an opportunity to save herself.

" _Man of Iron! Agent Coulson! Fury Director! Friends, I am most glad to see you, but I fear I come with dark tidings._ " She figured this was Thor. She'd seen brief recordings of him before on the news channels when various disasters had struck Earth. It had always seemed odd to her that his speech was so… medieval, for lack of a better word, but that his brother's, Loki's, appeared normal.

" _Welcome back, Thor. Always glad to have you among us. And you, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three_." This was clearly Coulson. _"I don't believe we have had the chance to meet this friend of yours, however._ "

" _My pardons. This is the all-seeing and all-hearing Heimdall, guardian of Bifrost. He is of utmost importance in our quest, as his sight is what led us here._ "

" _And what's this quest of yours?" Fury. "I suppose you'll need the Avengers to help you? Hopefully this isn't another invasion, we aren't quite in a rush to have another one of those._ "

" _Not at all. It is a threat… of a more complex nature. But perhaps it is just as dangerous for Midgard… we seek a power. We know little of it other that it is ancient and potentially beyond anything that has ever been seen to this day. It has stirred out of the confines of the worlds and has awoken. Heimdall has long looked for it and has been capable of tracking it down to here_."

" _Here… you mean Earth_?" Stark.

" _No. I mean here. To this fortress_."

There was a long, heavy silence. Alexia's heart was beating like a stampeding horse, as she slowly took those words in. She knew they were talking about her; she just knew it. There were no coincidences in this world: the dreams she'd had… the figure she'd spoken to… the way she'd stopped Wanda's powers… something was going on and it involved her and what she was capable of doing, all of a sudden.

She gasped: something else had just popped to her mind… how could she have overlooked it so long?

"Art." Her voice was quick and as loud as she dared, but truthfully, she didn't mind if she was overheard. The Avengers were probably too busy with Thor for now and if she was correct, this could be her ticket out of here. "You told me AIM and Hydra were working on some sort of device… some legend or prophecy… or…"

" _Yes. They are_."

"Cross reference what's being discussed right now and see if there's a match with their data. Hurry."

" _At once, m'am_."

Alexia clenched her teeth in anticipation and tried to calm to keep on listening to what was being said outside her cell.

" _You think this force is here_?" Fury. She could sense he wanted to hide her from the Half-God.

" _We know it is here, Midgardian. I can see it. It shines through the walls and floors_." That was probably the all-seer.

There was another awkward silence.

" _We have… one captive that was brought in earlier. We can take you to her, so you may see if she's what you are looking for. But I have to warn you that she has committed crimes here on Earth that she has to answer to. Take that as you may_."

They were on their way!

" _So what kind of force is this supposed to be?"_

" _It was my father who sent us, and he has provided little information on the subject. His scholars have found some scriptures that date back beyond any known period and seem to mention a force born at the start of the world, when Nothing became Everything and chaos erupted from order. It is all but mere legend, as these scriptures cannot be proof of anything, yet Heimdall seems to believe they are a link to what he has sensed."_

" _I assure you they are. What I have felt as it rippled through the universe was a force that binds everything and nothing. Those scriptures are the only ones mentioning something of the sort: they speak of the world between all worlds: the world of Dreams."_

Alexia felt the cold fingers of unease wrap themselves around her throat slowly. This was all too eerie… too unreal…

Art spoke up. " _What they speak of seems very akin to what AIM and Hydra have been working towards. They have decoded similar texts and information. Hydra has even created a machine that tried to assist people in exploring the world of dreams. They have been thus far unsuccessful. What would you like me to do with this situation?_ "

"Contact them. Tell them where I am." There was a grinding of metal on metal as the lock to contention room door was opened. "Tell them to come and get me, if they want me."

(0)

The first one through was Coulson, followed by Fury and Stark. Next came an array of oddly outfitted warriors: Thor, with his blond hair and red cape, a woman garbed like a Viking (and as tall as one too!), three fighters in the same style and another one, tall and dark and dressed in green. He held an immense sword and his yellowish eyes were as piercing as daggers… they made Alexia terribly uneasy.

The other Avengers stayed back, silent, but Cap pushed through with Natasha's help, still limping slightly. They were all on edge and on their guard, even though she was packed as tightly as a little sardine in her glass box; the girl wasn't sure if she should be proud of the fear she inspired, or worried where it might land her.

"It is you." The dark Asgardian walked forward very slowly, staring at her with those terrible eyes and tilting his head lightly. "I cannot see into you, how is that possible?"

"You cannot feel her thoughts, Heimdall?" Thor seemed shocked.

The guardian did not answer; instead, he came closer and closer, as though proximity would allow him to push into her mind…

She could feel him. It was like a huge hand was pressing against her forehead with the hopes of pushing into her brain: it was uncomfortable and very irritating. The closer her came, the more his eyes bore into hers and the heavier that pressure became.

It was too much.

She pushed back.

"Back off." Alexia snarled, showing her teeth. The dark Asgardian stopped and struggled for a moment, but she held strong. Anger fueled her determination. She pushed harder, until he took a step back: it felt as though she'd shifted a mountain. Then the pressure on her mind dropped and Heimdall turned away from her.

"It is without a doubt the power we are seeking. I cannot tell you what it is nor where it comes from, but their girl is born of it and it is still in its weakest form. She must be removed from Midgard before the power grows and she unleashes it. On Asgard we can contain it with runes and magic and determine what the best course of action will be."

There was an immediate uproar, as various factions in the room disagreed as to what would be the best way to proceed.

"I told you, she has extensive crimes to answer for right here on Earth. She's not going anywhere." Coulson snapped at once.

Thor stared at him, incredulous. "Did you not hear Heimdall? She poses a threat to Midgard that could be beyond the power of any of us present! She has to be removed at once and contained! She cannot stay here!"

"Hold on to your drapes, Shakespeare. She's under our jurisdiction and we caught her first. She stays right here until _we_ decide what's best to do." Tony stepped in.

Steve Rogers grabbed him by the arm, not gently. "Stark, this is Loki's specter and the Tesseract all over again! We're not equipped to handle alien powers: it's best we let those who know this kind of thing take care of it!"

"They just said they have no idea what this is! They're about as advanced in the matter as we are, Cap. Besides, Loki's sceptre turned out well enough: look at the Vision!"

"She cannot stay here." Heimdall intervened.

Stark turned on him. "And she's not going with you, Golden Gate. Tough luck."

Alexia stared at the exchange with some anticipation. This could either go in her favor or very much against it: she had no desire whatsoever of vanishing from Earth… she had a brief thought for Hugh, her beloved friend… if she was taken to Asgard, then she would _really_ never see him again.

The bickering continued, rising heatedly. The Viking woman and three warriors added their thunder-like voices to the issue and chaos ensued as everyone's tones rose slowly and the situation started to escalate. Natasha grabbed for her gun slowly and Hawkeye pulled out his bow. The Vision and Wanda got into defensive positions and Stark was pulling out a device probably meant to call his suit or to defend him. Falcon and Rhodes had pushed into the room to add their grain of salt to the matter. Coulson was calling for backup while Fury stood nose-to-nose with Thor, raising his voice to be heard above the ruckus.

Only Heimdall and Alexia remained silent, watching the action unfold. His eyes fell on her again, unreadable, but foreboding.

She understood at that moment that no matter the decision made by the Avengers, the darks-skinned guardian would bring her back with him, even if it meant his life.

Her ear vibrated.

" _AIM and Hydra are moments away from landing at the base. It took little to no arguing to get them both on their way. Prepare for an incoming. I should be capable of breeching Friday's system in the confusion to liberate you from the containment unit, but it will be up to you to get out."_

Alexia sighed her relief.

She spoke up and, using that same sort of force she'd felt earlier with Heimdall, she projected her voice mightily. It broke through every conversation in the room.

"Anyone want to know what I think?" Her words shot out as sharp as whip-cracks. Every pair of eyes turned to her at once and no one was reassured by the blatant amusement that shone in hers.

"You don't have a say in this." Fury growled.

She scoffed. "Oh, but I do. And I say you can _all_ go fuck yourselves. I am _the_ Wolf. And no one gets to decide where I go and what I do… except me."

It could not have been more theatrical: the moment her last word left her mouth, there was a loud whistle and colossal explosion. The room shook and someone screamed, as the lights flickered and nearly turned off. There was another phenomenal _boom_ and suddenly everyone was on the move.

The warriors rushed out with Thor as both Coulson and Fury tried to get a hang on what was going on. Captain rallied the Avengers with a flick of his hand, running with a slightly limp out the door. Stark glanced at her, but was off as well, calling in Friday to get him his armor. Everyone was either suiting up or getting ready to fight off the assault.

Everyone but Heimdall, who hadn't moved an inch during the whole ordeal. His eyes were fixed on hers and she didn't try to hide her disappointment at him staying behind with her. It would be extremely harder to escape with him blocking her path… but she'd figure out a way… or a way would figure itself out…

A man burst into the room. Heimdall and Alexia glanced at him and she didn't recognize him… he wasn't dressed like an agent; rather like a soldier, with camouflage pants and heavy black boots. His eyes glowed red and she understood at once what he was, even if Heimdall did not.

"Stay back, Midgardian. I do not wish to ha-…" The guardian stepped forward, but the soldier dashed at him, throwing out a glowing red hand, which created an explosion of spectacular force the moment it touched Heimdall. Unprepared, the warrior took the full force of the blow and went flying back, his sword slipping from his hand. The soldier turned to her just as her ear buzzed and the contention cell around her hissed open, the cylinders encasing her arms and legs opening up as well. She ripped out the needle that was still dripping fluid into her arm and struggled to stand: her knee was still pretty painful, after all.

The soldier moved towards her like a machine, grabbing her by the arm roughly and pulling her along.

"You're an enhanced soldier." She said. But she knew the answer and he didn't even glance at her, pulling her forward.

Alexia wasn't bothered: she knew she would be just fine. She could _feel_ the soldier… not just as a being, but as the energy that flowed within him and made him more powerful… it was a volcano of fire and power, just waiting for the right push to ignite and destroy…

"Stop." She ordered. Her voice was sharp as a knife. The soldier froze. She could feel the energy within him bending to her will…

She stepped in front of him. They were in the doorway to her contention room. He was staring at her with some alarm, unable to move anymore… she placed a small, gentle hand on his chest.

"Detonate."

She glanced to her right and saw Thor turning the corner; she immediately dashed off in the opposite direction as the soldier in front of her started to glow an unhealthy red… Thor had the sense to leap back and hide, because the soldier blew up with colossal force, razing the room behind him and filling the corridor with fire.

Alexia turned a corner and threw herself face down to the ground, covering her head, as fire roared around her and the shockwave shook her bones. Her knee was a howling mass of pain and she could feel blood running from the cauterized wound in her back. The air was full of smoke and the smell of singed cloth and hair, so she rolled on herself to extinguish any flame that still clung to her. Then, she struggled to her knees with a pained snarl and got back up.

Her ears were ringing. Well, her one real ear was: the other one, being bionic, hadn't been affected by the blast.

 _Move. Go._ Her lips were pulled back from her teeth and tears stung her eyes. She'd never been in so much pain in her life, but she forced herself to focus on moving instead. Stumbling, she used the wall as support and fought through the maze of a compound until she found stairs.

There were more soldiers coming down.

"Grab her. She's the one." One of them snapped and two other seized her by the arms, carrying her with them. She let them, knowing they were making better time than if she had been moving on her own.

It felt like they were rushing through the compound for a lifetime… there was smoke and fire and screaming… gunfire and explosions that shook the ground beneath their feet…

And Alexia was exhausted. Whatever allowed her to make that soldier explode had taken a chunk out of her… she could feel the three other enhanced soldiers around her in the same manner, but had no idea if she could control them as well without killing herself. Her throat was aching and full of smoke and she started coughing; her wounded rib seared at the motion.

They burst out into the open air so suddenly she was taken aback. The night sky was bright above them, albeit slowly being covered by the smoke from a fire on the compound, but it felt energizing to look up at the stars and the Cheshire, grinning moon. Fresh air filled her aching lungs and she seemed to awaken from a long haze…

"Stop." Alexia ordered, almost lazily.

All three soldiers froze and let her go. A bolt of lightning struck right in front of them, having been calculated to hit them while they moved. Behind them, Thor bellowed.

She placed both hands on the chests of the soldiers that had been holding her and felt the energy flow beneath her fingers… she felt a connection to these men, felt their existence beat in unity with hers. It was without a moment of remorse that she sent them to their deaths.

"Detonate."

They turned and ran towards the upcoming Avengers, slowly glowing redder and redder…

"GET DOWN!" Stark bellowed as everyone scrambled back from the rogue AIM soldiers. Wanda threw up a shield of red energy as they exploded with a tremendous shockwave and blast… the shield held, but broke after a sustained push from the detonation and Wanda was sent flying back roughly.

Alexia touched the third soldier.

"Detonate." She ordered. He ran off, towards the fighters and she dashed forward, clenching her teeth as tightly as she could against the searing pain in her leg and back. Every step was agony, but she kept her eyes fixed on the Hydra jet just steps away, so close and yet so far… if she could get on board, Art could pilot her out of there… she would be safe! Behind her, the soldier exploded like a firework, but she was far enough from the blast that she barely felt it…

Lightening flashed by her, so close it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand. It flew past her and hit the jet with monumental force… there was a spark and then there was ignition…

Time seemed to slow to a stop.

The jet exploded, erupting fire everywhere as a shockwave layered the ground around it, hitting her like a wall of bricks, knocking the air out of her bruised lungs. She flew back and landed on the ground like a rag doll, limp and beyond describable anguish.

Her ears were ringing again.

Alexia couldn't formulate a single thought. There was no more pain, because all she was was pain. There was the flickering light of fire… the sway of the breeze in the grass right in front of her eyes, as her face pressed into the ground… the screams of guns and people and metal twisted by heat… the irritatingly bright shine of the grinning moon: it seemed to mock her and her botched escape as she lay on the ground without the strength to rise anymore…

Someone was picking her up. Words. A face.

 _Heimdall_.

Her last thought as a bright blue light descended from the sky all around her was of Hugh and the only pain she felt was the agony of knowing she would never, ever see him again.

Tears spilled out of her eyes, the first real tears in years, as she shot through the galaxy and off into the bitter terror of mystery.

(0)

Well that's it for now! Hope you liked it, please review and let me know!


	13. Guest

Oh my, Pokemon GO has been taking up a lot of my time! Any of you guys play? I love that game! Let me know in your reviews!

Here goes!

(0)

White.

White.

Nothing but white.

She had been there for quite some time. How long? She had no idea.

But suddenly she was aware. She knew this place. It was the World between all Worlds, from where Dreams rose and Reality took shape.

Dreams to her left. Reality to her right. A hundred thousand thousand of each in both directions.

She reached out with her consciousness towards Reality… teetered on the edge of awakening, without awakening. She could feel her body, weighting a million tons; a pile of clumsy, lumbering flesh filled to the brim with pain and misery…

She pulled back. Not yet.

Not yet.

(0)

 _Her fiancé awoke her with panic._

" _They have him." David said with urgency._

 _She didn't have to ask, she knew who he spoke about. Hugh was his friend too, after all. They kept a close eye on the news to make sure he was alright. They knew what he did. They worried._

 _She rose without a word, fighting the panic that seized her by the throat with fury and relentlessness. She couldn't let David see how much this was hurting her: he didn't know what Hugh was to her… she couldn't…_

 _The news article was brief. Men arrested on in a biker gang's hideout… narcotics and weapons found… but she read the name of the gang… forced her face to stay impassive._

 _David didn't know the extent of what their friend was. She did. She was the only one in this world who did._

 _Hugh's name was in the article. Along with many other names. Many of which she knew._

 _But each and every single one of those names were wrong… they didn't belong to the RIGHT gang. Not the one he'd been working for… a rival one…_

 _He was at the wrong place and at the wrong time… had been swept off by a current in which he did not belong…_

 _A mistake._

 _They had to pray this would be resolved, and quickly, in court._

 _But two weeks passed. The rulings were overruled, pushed to a further date. Her world was falling to pieces as rage and hopelessness haunted her day and night. She couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and couldn't focus anymore…_

 _David was as worried. She sent him off to assist Hugh's wife and kids. Needed time alone as fury filled her heart._

 _And she started to think. How could she help him? How could she possibly save him?_

 _She wasn't one to sit back and do nothing._

 _Two weeks passed and she gathered her courage, as meagre as it was._

 _And she went to Charles, Hugh's boss, with a deal, facing the music and changing her destiny for ever. She sold her soul to the devil for her friend and signed away her future to preserve his._

 _And, given the choice, she'd do it all over again._

(0)

 _After her meeting with Charles, she followed him out of his office and into a sleek, black car. Two men went with them, one driving and three more followed in another car._

 _She kept her jaw set and tightly shut, trying to calm her hammering heart. The world around her seemed unreal, as though she wasn't really living what she was living, as if it was happening to someone else and she was watching. Several times, that tiny voice insider her head asked, incredulous, if she was utterly out of her mind, if she understood exactly what she had gotten herself into._

 _She ignored it, as she always did. Alexia sat in complete silence next to Charles for the longest time._

" _I won't ever be cruel to you." He finally said, glancing at her. She kept her eyes down: his gaze still frightened her. "Nor will I abuse you. But I will ask you to do things that are illegal and dangerous. Hugh has told me time and time again that there in no one in this world that can be trusted more than you and I'm willing to take his word on that. He swears you can take any secret with you to your grave. That better be true, because what you will be doing requires that you do not ever speak of it to anyone, no matter the threats or pain you are put under. Is that something you consider yourself capable of doing?"_

" _Yes." No hesitation. She knew who she was and what she was._

" _Then today I will ask you to sign your name in blood and fire. Your new life is about to begin. Remember that when we walk out of this, you belong to me for the next three years and are to do what is asked of you. I can see the darkness within you; I plan on putting it to good use."_

" _So long as Hugh is out in the next month, our deal stands."_

 _They had driven long and fast to some recluse cottage in the woods up north. They were far from civilisation. She was terrified, but would never admit it…_

 _She stepped out of the car. Followed Charles and the five men to the front door. They were greeted by another man, tall and built like and ox with hands as big as diner plates. She knew him: she'd seen him hang around Hugh before. She knew what he did._

 _So it came as no surprise when they all went down into the basement and into a large room that was covered floor, walls and ceiling in plastic wrapping. There was blood spattered everywhere and the smell of human waste clung to the air, thick and sickening._

 _What did come as surprise was this: in the center of the plasticised room sat her ex-boyfriend, whom she'd been with before David. He was tied to a chair, his hands so tightly bound to the armrests that the coarse rope had sliced into the skin._

 _He looked up and she kept her face placid: his was swollen and bloody, one eyes shut and caked with dried blood, his lip split and some of his dark hair ripped right out of his skull. He smelled like fear and piss and agony and, slowly, her fear started to turn to fury. She was starting to understand why they were there._

" _Please… Alex… oh God, help me!" He chocked, blood dripping from his swollen mouth. His voice was rough and cracked and betrayed pain._

 _The men had massed behind her and she could feel their stares on her. She showed no emotion, but inside she was coming to a boil._

" _You recognize him, I trust." Charles came next to her._

 _She let out a half-scoff, half-snarl, not trusting herself to speak. Her ex had been vain and cruel and had manipulated her out of all her savings, putting her in a position where she couldn't leave him. It was with David's help that she had managed to get herself out of that mess… there was no love between them, but if ever there had been any kindness, it was about to vanish._

" _He's here because it turns out there's a reason Hugh was caught with that rival gang. Someone had snitched on their location and wrongdoings, leading the authorities right to them while retaining safety for his own person. That certain someone also led our friend Hugh to that place so he'd be pulled in with the rest, all this to save his own skin, because he'd made a deal with the police. Isn't that right, Andrew?" Charles' voice was soft, but she'd never heard anything deadlier._

" _Please! Please, I swear, I had no choice! They were going to bring me down, I had to give them… give them something… please…."_

" _You sold him out. To save yourself." She stated. Her voice was exactly like Charles's. Only it was a thousand times more dangerous._

 _Andrew kept pleading and crying, his body shaking like a leaf, but it only filled her with more fury, more hate and an ever-growing desire to rip him to pieces._

 _Charles stepped closer to her, handing her wicked, serrated blade._

" _If you agree to kill him, you sign the three-year contract. If you would rather turn…"_

 _She ripped the knife out of his hand, crossed the room in three swift steps and plunged it without a sound with all her strength right into his forearm. There was a split second of utter silence as the man she hated stared at the wound, stared at her, stared at the wound again… and let out an ear-splitting howl of agony._

 _She promptly curled her hand into a fist and sent it flying at his jaw with enough force to break it with a satisfying crunch. She's never punched someone before… her knuckles were throbbing painfully, but she paid that no mind._

 _Alexia stared right into Andrew's eyes. "I'm going to make you rue the day you pissed me off." She turned to glance at Charles, who seemed somewhat amused. "In blood and fire."_

 _He nodded with a smirk._

 _Three hours later, her contract was signed. She was exhausted and her muscles were in pain, but there was certain peace within her… one she hadn't felt in a very, very long time._

(0)

 _She stood at the foot of the tower that went into space, looking up. She'd lived through her memories over and over, trying to lose herself in them. She knew that the moment she left this place, she would have to face whatever awaited in the real world… she had no desire to leave._

Dream Rider.

 _She turned to face the shape in the cloak; wasn't even surprised to hear him._

 _Could she make out the outline of a jaw beneath that hood? The skin seemed purple, but she wasn't sure…_

Talk. Tell me what I need to know. _Her voice was an order, sharp and hard._

 _The figure seemed to smirk._

As you will.

At the start of the world, there was Nothing. It was Order and Void. Then, out of Nothing came Everything. It was Chaos and Matter. Thus began the universe and the war between those two dual natures. But what few know is that there is a third force at play: it has existed along With Nothing and Everything since the beginning. It is what unites and divides those two powers: it is the bridge between it all. In your world, they call that force Dreams. It is known differently across the universes, but its name makes no matter.

There are many who can channel the powers of Dreams, as there are many who can channel Order and Chaos. But there is only one who is the champion of Dreams: the one who can commune with that power without end… and you are that champion, Dream Rider.

 _She stared at him. Glanced back up at the tower. What was it with that tower? It had always been in the city, but now it drew her attention more than ever._

Why now? _She demanded._

 _The figure shrugged._ Who knows? The last time a champion rose, it was because Order had overcome Chaos and was about to destroy the precarious balance of existence… that was ages ago and the only thing that survived that time is legend and rumor preserved by… truly, no one knows…

Because the force that is Dreams expanded and called forth a champion.

And the Dream Rider razed the worlds, every single universe in existence, so that Everything and Nothing had to start anew.

That is how the world as _you_ know it came to be.

(0)

Alexia's eyes split open. Bright light hit her at once and she had to squint to get used to it… her heart pounded savagely as the figure's last words echoed in her ears over and over…

Razed the worlds. The last champion had destroyed everything.

 _EVERYTHING_.

She was scared, her throat constricted with worry. What was she? Was she destined to do the same thing as well? The figure had brought answers and hundred new questions… Questions to which she would probably never find solutions.

She shifted and felt pain surge through her being at once. She groaned, closing her eyes against the wave and taking slow, measured breaths. The young woman was seriously starting to get sick and tired of agony… it felt as though the last few days had consisted of nothing more…

Or had it been longer?

Slowly, she raised her head to have a look at her surroundings.

She lay on a soft feather mattress in a fairly large bed in the centre of a cavernous room. The ceiling, all marble and painted scenery, rose high above her and the marble walls, adorned with countless columns, were far around her. There were paintings on the walls, a few of which she could make out: scenes of battle and war and royalty… wherever she was, it wasn't in a beggar's home.

Behind her, bright light flowed in. She had to crane her neck and push herself up gingerly to look over the bedframe. She felt something thick and heavy around her throat, so a hand rose to explore it and she realized it was some sort of collar… a thick, golden chain was attached to it and ran off the side of the bed and to a huge pillar… she wasn't about to free herself of that…

She saw that around her wrists, strange metal bands were tightly closed, engraved with glowing runes she'd never seen before.

Trying to process all this, the young woman rose a bit higher and turned her head to find the source of the brightness… and promptly let her jaw drop at the sight.

The back of the room had no wall, only an open balcony. It gave a splendid view on the most gorgeous sight she had ever seen: a bright morning sun rising fiercely over distant mountains capped in white snow, all overlooking a sparkling lake of turquoise blue and tall, rising trees as far as the eye could see. She'd never seen a view even half as beautiful anywhere on Earth…

The sight gave her the strength to sit up on the edge of the bed, albeit gingerly, pushing aside the light satin sheet that covered her. She had been washed and clothed in some sort of thin, blue silk gown that felt as light as air… and made her feel terribly naked. However, no amount of washing could erase the deep scratches and ugly, discolored bruises that covered most of her body.

She took a moment to examine herself, sitting on the bed. She lifted the blue silk gown with painful fingers, assessing the swell and bruising on her knee, along with scratches all over her legs. There were metal bands around her ankles as well, also engraved with runes. Her arms were just as bad, mostly covered in yellowish and purple blotches; she also noted her muscles trembled weakly at the slightest motion and that her bones seemed to be jutting out more now. She'd obviously been out longer than she thought…

A few of the cuts had been deep and someone had cleaned and sewn them shut, bandaging them as well. Alexia reached back, wincing, at the wound in her back and ran her fingers over the irregular, badly cauterized flesh. There was pain, but she couldn't smell rot or sickness: there was apparently no infection on her person. She had no mirror, so she tried to take in the state of her face and head with trembling hands. There were scratches and swelling, but at least she wasn't missing her nose… her hair was shorter now, but she wasn't sure if it was because someone had cut it or because it had burned during the explosions. Beyond a few raw and throbbing spots on her skull, she was relatively unhurt.

The young woman sighed and bowed her head, trying not to give into despair.

After a moment of silence, during which she listened absently to the cheery whistles of birds outside, the girl spoke up.

"Art?"

The word echoed eerily through the room.

There was no answer. Of course there wasn't. She'd been whisked away across half the galaxy, how could Artemis reach her here?

Nonetheless, Alexia felt tears rise to her eyes and she clenched her hands tightly into the mattress beneath her. She hadn't been without Artemis for years… for the longest time, the AI was like a friend to her… now she was truly alone, at a time when she really, really didn't feel like being alone.

It was frightening. It was despairing. It was angering.

And there was nothing she could do about it. Feelings mixed in her mind, mostly born of the incapability of changing her fate.

Across the room, the large door suddenly opened.

Her tears dried at once and she glanced up, veiling her face. Emotionless.

An imposing, bearded man entered first, followed by the one known as Heimdall and the hero Thor. They were escorted by the three male and one female fighter that had been present on Earth during the battle… she stared at them coldly as they approached her and was glad to see that Heimdall seemed pretty banged up from their encounter: he wore bandages and walked with a barely discernable limp. Thor had a few scratches as well, but he wasn't as bad: after all, he hadn't taken the full blow of an exploding enhanced soldier.

"You're awake. For a time, we didn't think you would make it, but it seems you are more resilient than most Midgardians." The bearded man stated. "I am King Odin, All-father and ruler of Asgard. I believe you've already met Heimdall, guardian of the Bifrost and my son Thor. These are his fighting companions, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif."

"Where am I?" She demanded, stone-cold, staring at them with barely hidden disdain. She was good at hiding behind anger.

Thor stepped forward. "You are in the royal palace of Asgard, in one of the many guest chambers."

 _Guest chambers… I'd love to see what the master bedroom looks like._ She mused. "A prisoner."

"A guest." Odin corrected. "It was within Midgard's best interest to have you removed until we can better understand what sort of gift it is you have. So far, it would appear to have been quite destructive. I can assure you that we are here to help you learn to control it."

 _Control it. And use it for you. Or terminate me if you can't_. Is what she heard. "I didn't destroy anything. I triggered the enhanced soldiers, but they were rigged to blow sooner or later anyways. Very unstable. I have no idea what kind of powers I have, but I can assure you that so far, I haven't destroyed anything… not with the powers at least."

"I have felt your force ripple through the universe nonetheless. We have little information about what you may or may not be and will keep searching to find a way to assist you. However, it could help us if you were to explain exactly what it is you have been capable of doing so far." Heimdall explained. His yellow eyes bore into her and again, she felt terribly vulnerable and naked beneath his gaze. She glanced down and shrugged, thinking.

She didn't trust them. Why would she? They had kidnapped her from her home planet and ported her to a completely different world without her say or consent. They claimed to want to help her, but truth was they feared her… and wished to bend her powers, whatever they may be, to their will. All beings were like that, be they man or Asgardian. So she decided to filter the information she would give them… let them think she was compliant for the time being. Then, once her strength was back and the opportunity arose, she would find a way to run…

She had to.

"Well…" She hesitated, tried to make them believe she was confused. "All my life, I had good intuition. I knew when I should or shouldn't be somewhere. I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, just imagination, but of late it seemed to become even more powerful. I could also draw or avert the attention of people around me, especially crowds. But again, I thought I was imagining things. Then… well, I negated the red powers of one of the Avengers, the one known as the Red Witch. And I was able to unbalance the energy within those soldiers to make them explode… That's it, really, although I have no idea how I was able to do any of those things… they just happened…"

She kept her dreams, as well as the figure and what he'd told her a secret. They didn't need to know about that.

Odin was looking at her with an odd expression, but she saw the others exchange glances. It was Heimdall who answered her, after a moment of silent deliberation.

"It may help us." He tilted his head. "But it is little information to go on. Is there nothing else?"

She stared right back into those yellow eyes and did not look away. "Nothing."

"So be it. For the time being, I sense the power has calmed down. Those bands around your ankles and wrists seem to be culling it somewhat." Heimdall turned to Odin. "This should make her relatively harmless until we can advance our knowledge on what we are dealing with."

 _Harmless?_ She wanted to frown, but let no emotion show. _Of course! They have no idea I'm a trained killer, Coulson never got a chance to tell them!_ Good, let them keep thinking that the only thing that made her a danger was her supposed power.

She had her advantage.

"Nonetheless, she will remain chained in this chamber until further notice. She can move about the palace if she desires, but has to keep her chain and be escorted at all times by Thor and his warriors. I will take no risk that the citizens of the city should be harmed. Heimdall, go seek the scholars and inform them that they are to double their search time and find my anything that can relate to the powers this Midgardian has."

"At once, my king." The dark guardian left.

She watched him go, already trying to figure out a way, any way, to make this turn to her advantage.

Chained, spell-bound and surrounded by Viking warriors, for the time being she couldn't see any such way.

(0)

There we go! Hope you enjoy it, it's fun to see how it evolves from the idea I had in my mind and what actually ends up being written.

By the way, many of the dream sequences in the city are actually inspired by a long spell of real lucid dreaming I had a while back. The cloaked figure is one such thing, it was actually quite scary!

Again, don't forget to review and let me know if you guys play Pokémon GO! What team are you on if you do? I'm Mystic!


	14. Mischief

Not many reviews this time around… I'm kinda disappointed, they really make me happy when I get to read them!

School is going to start soon, so I might need a little positive nudge for frequent updates! Remember to let me know how you like the story!

(0)

Alexia was left in the room with Thor and his warrior buddies, all of which seemed vaguely uncomfortable at having been reduced to babysitting duty by their king. She had no desire to be watched by this group day and night and was already trying to find a way to rid herself of them.

The girl sighed and tried to rise.

Her legs shook at the motion and vertigo made the room spin… she sat back down roughly with a groan.

The female warrior, Sif, was at her side at once, somewhat concerned.

"Perhaps you should take a moment to regain your strength. You have slept for quite some time, truly." She said, hesitating a moment before placing a reassuring hand on Alexia's shoulder. The young woman had to admit she felt like shit…

"How… how long have I been out?"

Sif knelt before her. "Nearly five days, since you have left Midgard. I understand you were wounded before our arrival there, as well. We cleaned your wounds and fed you with honey and water as was possible, but such severe damage takes its toll on anyone…"

Alexia nodded as her head stopped spinning. Sif stood and turned to her warrior friends.

"Perhaps we should bring furniture and sustenance to the room. It would do us all well to eat and drink, the... Midgardian girl most of all."

The three warriors and Thor almost looked relieved at a task to accomplish. They piled out of the room, leaving both women alone, and Alexia glanced up at Sif, feeling a certain amount of thankfulness to this Asgardian she did not know.

"My name is Alexia."

Sif looked at her, smiling awkwardly. "It is an honor, Lady Alexia. I have not had the chance to see you during the fight, but I have heard that you are quite the… resilient warrior. It is not oft that maidens are considered as such…"

Alexia let out a bark of laugh that startled them both. "I'm no warrior and I'm certainly no maiden… What happened back there… the powers, everything… I was trying to survive. S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted to chain me and control me, so I wanted to find freedom…" She tugged at the collar and chain around her neck. "I don't do well in captivity."

"That is for your protection, and ours. Until we better understand…"

"Yeah, yeah… I get it. Doesn't mean I enjoy it."

Sif looked sorry, but Alexia ignored her and glanced back outside. The sun had risen over those snow-capped mountains and seemed to be teasing her: how easily she could be out there, free and roaming! But here she sat, weak, wounded and bound… a prisoner, no matter what Odin would have her believe.

The door to the room banged open suddenly and a stream of servants piled in, carrying an overlarge wooden table, massive chairs, comfortable sofas and plates upon plates of various dishes… the carafes of wine and kegs of beer soon followed, escorted by a grinning Thor and his three friends… Alexia watched all this march in with some disbelief… was this what they considered recovery food? There was suckling boar and pig roasted with nuts and honey, fish basked in lemon and spices, some sort of deer stuffed with fruits… various salads and fruits she had never seen before… not to mention the impressive amount of rich, red wine and beer so thick you could chew it…

"My Lady." Thor bowed courteously before her. "My father insists you do not for a moment think yourself a prisoner here. You are a guest in Asgard. As soon as you find yourself well enough, you may visit the palace."

"As long as I keep the rune bands and chain." She snapped almost coldly.

Thor shifted uncomfortably, but she shook her head and sighed. No matter the food and wine he sent, Odin made it clear as day she was a prisoner… but considering this sudden, rich service, he was determined to keep her in his good graces. Did this mean he feared her? Feared her powers? Wanted to make sure that once she knew how to use them, she would use them for him? It was hard to tell… she realised slowly that the intuition she had had for years about her surrounding and the people around her had faded… perhaps the runes on the bands around her ankles and wrists were truly keeping her so-called powers at bay…

Alexia tried to rise again, but felt her body tremble at the slightest motion… she was about to collapse anew on the bed when Sif appeared next to her and slipped an arm around her waist to keep her up and steady her. They exchanged no words, but Alexia did feel a certain amount of gratitude as the Asgardian warrior slowly helped her limp to a place at the table. As she was moved away from the bed, her golden chain extended from the pillar it was attached to, in order to allow her to reach the table.

She was seated and presented with several dishes at once, her mug filled with beer and cup filled with wine.

The food was so rich it almost choked her with its smell, but the girl forced down a few bites before falling into the alcohol. She'd always been a big drinker… when one did the work she had to do, one tended to fall into some sort of vice to make the whole ordeal bearable. Her vice had been booze.

As such, she drank the deviously fragrant wine and stuffing, heavy beer and listened intently to the heroes laugh and boast around her. She sensed their discomfort at her presence, but she only sensed it through body language: she was missing that little something that was attributed to her powers… There was an emptiness within her that had nothing to do with Art being unable to answer…

It wasn't long before exhaustion caught up to her and she found herself nodding off right into her beer… the last memory she had was of one of the warriors gently picking her up to carry her back to the bed, where she curled up into silk sheets and lost herself in a dreamless sleep.

(0)

Morning came anew, bright and early and perfectly beautiful…

She woke faster this time. Her eyes split open suddenly and she was immediately aware of the room around her. The food she'd consumed the night before seemed to have done some good: she was feeling slightly better.

Alexia rolled over and swung her legs over the side of the bed to sit. On a nearby couch she saw Thor, arm slung over his face and empty beer mug lying next to him… he'd obviously been drinking heavily the night before. Lady Sif was sleeping soundly on another couch and Alexia noted that the Warriors Three were nowhere to be seen: perhaps they had decided to take shifts watching over her, considering she wasn't much of a threat.

The girl breathed in deeply and moved every muscle in her body slowly, one at a time, testing her strength. There was pain and weakness, but it was slightly less than it had been the day before… she was on the road to recovery.

Slowly, she pushed herself up from the bed. Her legs shook and she felt the room spin, but she grasped a nearby bedpost to keep herself steady… after a moment, she felt better.

She glanced off into the distance, out through the balcony, at the gorgeous mountains illuminated by the rising sun. There was freedom, and it was howling her name… the chain around her neck felt suddenly very, very heavy.

Alexia slumped back down heavily with a grunt. It was hard to wait… wait for her body to get stronger… wait for Odin's scholars to find 'info' on her issue… wait on something to happen to make things move forward…

She wished Artemis was here with her… the AI could have helped, could have searched… perhaps Jonathan could have found something… Gods, she even missed Charles and his antics…

And Hugh…

No. No, she would not. Thinking about him ripped open a wound within her soul that was miles deep.

There was a sound behind her.

Alexia tensed and glanced over her shoulder, her devastated body bracing for a fight…

There was a man.

An Asgardian… she knew him. Even standing in the far shadows of the room, braced for fight or flight, she instantly recognized him.

Had the television channels on Earth not broadcasted him enough during and after his failed attempt at overtaking the world? There was no mistaking that black, sleek hair and intense, pointed face.

Those eyes like emeralds…

She stared wordlessly at Loki, God of Mischief.

Lady Sif shifted with a sudden groan and Alexia nearly leapt out of her skin at the sound, but the brief distraction caused her to break eye contact with the apparition… when she glanced back, Loki was gone.

As though he had never been.

(0)

Okay, I'm sorry for the slow and short chapter, but I want to give you guys a little something before leaving for the weekend. Please remember to review! Encouragements and constructive criticism are much appreciated.


	15. Art for short

Paige, thank you for your review, it's much appreciated! In answer to your question, it was really choked. I miswrote, but thank you very much for pointing it out, I'll go correct it!

I know the last chapter was a bit slow, so I promise more here!

(0)

Loki donned his garb as Odin, king of Asgard, pulling on his cloak with a shrug. Kerra helped him pin it to his clothing with decorated broaches of solid gold shaped like ravens that shone brightly in the morning light. She was avoiding his gaze, biting at her lip pensively as he took note of her unusual behavior with some amusement.

"You're jealous."

Kerra scoffed, glancing into those emerald eyes before focusing anew on pinning those heavy broaches. "Of you going to see _her_? As yourself? No."

Loki grasped her roughly by the chin and lifted her face so she'd be forced to look at him. There was a dignified pout in her full, red lips… he felt like biting at them and pushing her right back to the bed to fuck her like he had the night before… but he knew he had best be off to tend to the duties of the realm. Odin was not one for being late to court…

"What, then?"

Kerra shrugged. "I find it was… unwise…"

"To go see her?"

"As yourself."

Loki smirked at the unnerved girl. Of course she was jealous! She was a mage, yes, but her powers were learnt. They did not belong to something ancient and forgotten as it was with Alexia. She knew that if she lost her use to him, he would discard her.

She wasn't wrong. But he still needed her, so he had to make sure she didn't know that.

"Sweetling." He ran a thumb over her cheek gently. "You have no need to worry. She thinks herself a prisoner of Odin. With her powers in check, she has no idea I am not him. She needs to despise someone and trust someone else. Midgardians are like that: they like to pick sides and form up against a common enemy. Your job is to figure out _what_ her powers are, so we can understand what she is. Mine is to make sure that when the time comes, she will side with me when I kill Odin and take Asgard as my own, in my own form."

Kerra sighed and, after a moment, nodded.

"Good girl. Now go. I have endlessly harrowing petitions to listen to."

Before she turned to leave, he grabbed her again and lay a soft kiss on her lovely mouth, to serve as a reminder that he wanted her at his side. The girl, all mage that she was, smiled and blushed like a maid without seeing how futile her existence was coming to be.

(0)

Alexia lay on the bed for a while after seeing the God of Mischief, trying to figure out if she had dreamt him or not… Outside, the sun slowly rose and finally lay a teasing ray over Sif's face, forcing the female warrior to wake with a groan. She was up at once, yawning and stretching sore muscles: it wasn't very comfortable to sleep a whole night on a sofa, after all…

"Lady Alexia! I trust you have slept well." She smiled gently as she saw the young woman was awake.

She nodded. "I'm feeling better today."

"I do hope so; it would mean your condition is improving, which is a relief after the wounds you sustained. I'll go fetch servants for the breakfast. Is there anything in particular you are served at the morning meal in Midgard?"

Alexia thought about that for a second. "If you have coffee, I might need a pint of it."

Sif smiled gladly and walked rapidly out of the room. A woman with a mission.

Alexia watched her leave pensively. Something was afoot in the kingdom of Asgard, she was sure… she could almost feel it… If she really had seen Loki… after his crimes on Earth, he had surely been punished, or at least locked up here. The girl couldn't believe they had let him walk around without penalty. She needed to figure out what was happening.

Slowly, she rose from the bed. The room spun, but she closed her eyes and held on to a bed post until it passed. When the ground beneath her feet was finally stable, she took a gentle step forward.

Behind her, the golden chain linked to her neck slipped out of the pillar it was attached to soundlessly, animated by some magic to give her leave to move about the room. She glanced at it with a scowl, deciding to test out just how much room she had.

Her feet were soundless on the cold marble ground as she moved towards the illuminated balcony, keeping her eyes focused on the surreal mountains far beyond. Her legs shook and vertigo seized her time and time again, but Alexia was made of sterner stuff: she ignored it. There was pain, but it was fading. There was exhaustion, but it was less than yesterday.

It was crucial she regain her strength as fast as possible. How was she to get out of here if she didn't? And she didn't even want to think about her way of getting of Asgard: this was a world a hundred thousand miles from hers…

It seemed as though she had to walk a mile, but she finally got to the balcony. She rested her hands on the banister and looked beyond, mesmerized by the lush green forest beneath her, the sparkling lake of turquoise water and those damned summits that rose like white-capped giants off in the distance. Say what you will, Asgard was a place of surreal beauty and richness. She had never seen such vibrant colors and splendid nature anywhere on Earth, and she had traveled far and wide in her line of work.

Alexia sighed and snapped out of her contemplation to turn her attention to that damned chain. It trailed behind her, taunt but light as air. It felt as though it was made of something stronger than vibranium and yet it shone yellow like the purest gold and seemed to weight close to nothing. She was currently at the far end of one side of the room and it seemed to let her get that far, at least. She wrapped weakened hands around the large, cold links and pulled.

Unsurprisingly, it refused to budge, stuck like glue to the pillar. She let go and pulled her whole body back towards the banister to see if that gave her any leeway, but the chain stopped uncoiling as soon as she was physically at the balcony. She moved a few steps back towards it and pulled at it again: this time, it uncoiled towards herm but only just as much as she would need to reach the balcony.

Alexia frowned and looked around herself, trying to figure this out…

After a few seconds, it became apparent: the room was actually square and that pillar was smack in the middle of it. Even though it seemed to release that unnatural chain magically, it was only made to do so to be as long as the wearer needed to reach around the room. Since it was square, that meant she could reach every wall, but not the corners…

It also meant…

The door banged open loudly and startled both her and Thor, who was still asleep on a sofa. He pounced up with a grumble and reached out his hand, summoning his hammer, which flew to him from under a seat, upending it. Alexia stared at him, amused, as he tried to wake up and understand where he was and what was going on. His eyes finally settled on her, near the balcony, and he realized no one was in any danger. Thor slumped back down into the sofa with a groan.

Meanwhile, servants piled in soundlessly to clear last night's dinner and bring in fresh silverware for breakfast. Sif was with them, followed by one of the Warriors Three, the big one with a head of reddish hair and a matching beard. He spotted her as well and nodded.

"My lady. I don't believe we have been properly introduced. I am Volstagg. Of the Warriors Three."

She moved gingerly back towards the table. "I am Alexia, not a lady. Of the nothing at all."

The servants brought in plates of eggs and steaming bacon and fragrant, fresh bread that filled the room with delightful scent and made her stomach snarl ferociously. There was coffee as well: a brew as black as night and as thick as soup as she poured it into a mug. She had to admit, it smelled a hundred times finer than any coffee she'd ever had on Earth and she had visited plantations of the stuff.

Sif, Thor and Volstagg sat with her as well, diving without shame into the food on the table. There were also dishes of mashed potatoes and platters of fruits and vegetables that dotted the area with color and delightful smells. Alexia found herself picking a bit of everything, fighting with herself to not dive in and devour every bit that fell under her hand. She was famished and her appetite had returned, but she knew that if she over did it, she would be ill. There was just too much and it was too good!

"So, my la-… Alexia…" Thor nodded at her between bites. There was beer available as well, a pale blond brew that looked as light as water and he was drinking it as such. "We know very little of you. Please enlighten us as to who you were, on Midgard."

"You haven't spoken to Coulson? Or Fury?"

Thor looked uncomfortable. "The… leaders of the Avengers were unwilling to let you leave with us. We had to take action and make a decision in their stead and with the assault shortly after our arrival… we had little time to speak of you."

She knew. This meant they had no idea what she did for a living… what she was… it had to stay that way!

"Nothing much to know about me. Just an ordinary girl back on Earth… I had no idea I had any sort of powers until recently." She shrugged. Even if they found out what she was, what she said wasn't a lie… sort of…

"But the organisation known as S.H.I.E.L.D. held you captive and refused to let you leave. I seem to recall Coulson Agent mentioning you had crimes to answer for on Midgard. That was the reason he was unwilling to let you leave. Not to mention the contention trap they had closed you in." Volstagg mentioned nonchalantly, nibbling on some bacon, but his eyes were on her like hawks. He was watching her carefully for a reaction.

Unfortunately for him, she'd been interrogated by far worse.

Never skipping a beat, she chuckled. "Yeah… I did cause them some problems, I suppose. I created a program to hack into their systems and track their activity to make sure they weren't up to no good. With all the recent events… well, there had been chaos on Earth and people such as myself tend to want to do their part to make themselves and others safe. S.H.I.E.L.D didn't approve my working behind their backs so they tracked me down and locked me up. Their methods are… rough to say the least and I was hurt during the assault."

Sif and Volstagg turned to Thor for explanations on the whole hacking issue, but he seemed just as unfamiliar as they were. Alexia noted this and stepped in at once.

"Hacking. I worked with programs and computers, sort of how Tony Stark does. Earth is ruled by computer logistics; surely you know."

Thor nodded. "Of course. The finer working of it may escape our understanding, but if the work you do is such as Stark's, I can comprehend. So the organisation was after you for playing behind their backs?"

She nodded, sipping on that divine coffee. "Yup. I meant no harm. But try and explain _that_ to them…"

The three nodded amongst them knowingly and she hid a smirk behind a perfectly placid face.

I was time to allow herself a few questions of her own…

"So… speaking of threats to Earth… just what happened with that brother of yours that tried to take over my world? Loki, was it?" Her tone was carefully careless. She focused on her food, taking bigger bites to fill her belly.

Thor looked down sadly. "He… he passed away on another world known as Svartalfheim, fighting to defend Midgard and Asgard. May he ride forever in Valhalla."

Sif and Volstagg mumbled those words as well and Alexia took a moment to look compassionate.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." But her thoughts were other: _What the Hell is going on here?_

(0)

Tony Stark was in a foul mood.

It didn't happen often, but the last week had been utter shit and chaos, following the attack on Avengers HQ, for lack of better words. It was putting a strain on him, but his brooding temper came from elsewhere entirely: although he was pissed at how things had played out, he was even angrier at Thor for having snatched away the girl during the shitstorm fight with Hydra and AIM. He wouldn't think about _why_ he was angry at having lost her, but he knew he was.

The aftermath had been barely contained chaos: Thor and his band had vanished, leaving the Avengers to fight off the Hydra agents and enhanced soldiers. There had been more uncontrolled explosions and endless wounds and bullets flying about, until both enemy teams had either rushed off in defeat or lay in pieces on the lawn around HQ. The Avengers had been hurt: Cap, with his leg wounded by the girl, had taken a severe beating and was resting for the time being. Natasha and Clint were pretty unharmed, save for a few bruises and cuts, which was a miracle considering they were unenhanced and basically human… but they were good at what they did and it had saved them.

Rhodes and Wilson had sustained more damage to their armors than to their bodies. Vision was unscathed, but Wanda had taken the shockwave of a blast fully and was recovering from some pretty bad wounds.

Tony himself had gotten out of the ordeal with a few bruises and sprains: nothing serious. His suit was mangled and scratched, but nothing he couldn't fix. He had returned to his tower as soon as possible to ponder on who the girl was and what to do now… it was no easy task.

Fury and Coulson were trying to re-organise and launch a strike against Hydra and AIM, the girl all but forgotten. She was out of their reach for now and that seemed to put an end to their search; it did not put an end to his. He had to know more… he had to figure this out…

He was Tony Stark, damnit! A genius! He solved problems and moved the world around him on a daily basis!

Seated in front of a computer screen, running some facial recognition software to find existence of the girl within the files of the world, he was lost deeply in thought… There was nothing but the silent hum of the machine around him… it was relaxing, almost calming…

" _Sir?"_

Tony glanced up, snapping from his reverie. He opened his mouth to answer Friday, but then he stopped abruptly.

That hadn't been Friday.

He was sure. That was another voice entirely.

Tony hesitated, looking around himself. Friday did not speak up, did not mention a virus or hack… he almost though he'd dreamed it…

" _Mister Stark_?"

He leapt out of his chair. _What? That really wasn't Friday's voice!_

"Who are you?"

There was a heartbeat of silence…

" _I am the A.I. program A.R.T.E.M.I.S., Art for short. I was created by Miss Alexia and a friend of hers to serve as her assistant._

" _And I cannot seem to be able to contact her anymore_."

(0)

Ohhh where is all this going? Truth be told, I have more or less and idea. Some stuff just kind of happens.

Please review!


	16. Of friends and foes

Long time no write… school has started and combined with work, it is no easy task… sorry I don't update sooner, for those of you who read and enjoy this story!

To ARG, who reviewed about my question on Pokémon GO: too bad you didn't join with your friends, there really is an advantage at taking gyms and holding them with buddies, you can get pokecoins (for the store) by doing so! And it is easier if you are a band to take and hold a gym with your best Pokémon!

(0)

Days passed.

She slept, she woke, she ate, she laughed with her captors. They spoke of things and others, but she could never find herself connecting with anything or anyone, almost as if she existed within a world different from theirs…

Alexia had always been different from everyone around her, but it became most apparent when she changed lives and embraced the darkness within herself: she became a loner without emotions or cares… she no longer forced herself to connect with people around her… loneliness became a sanctum.

It was no different now: she would exchange pleasantries with Sif, but would not connect with the warrior any more than necessary. They had a natural disposal at interaction, perhaps because they were both women in the world of men, but it didn't stop that familiar rift from forming between Alexia and the Norse fighter. She let it form without disturbance: she did not want friends. She wanted freedom.

A particularly sunny morning found the young woman feeling better and stronger than ever before.

Alexia rose from her bed with the fluidity of a predator, transitioning from sleep to wakefulness with silk-soft precision. Her body was finally returning to her, albeit slowly and weakly.

In a corner of the room, two large beds had been laid out to accommodate both her watchers at that time. Today she was graced with Thor and Hogun, another of the Warriors Three. The small group had established a more or less random selection of their members to guard her: it was inconvenient, because if she planned to escape, she would be unable to determine when the best time run would be…

As silent as a shadow, she rose from her bed. She'd become used to the chain around her neck and had learned to move with it without making a sound. Her guards had noted her unusual talent, but she had shrugged it off, as though every human on Earth was capable of doing what she did…

Alexia stretched slowly, making sure to relax every muscle in her body one by one. It was a slow, delicate process that she used to relax her mind at the same time… she'd never been the patient one, but her martial arts teacher had been adamant: a focused mind was a focus body. She'd followed his teachings to a fault.

Slowly, she eased into demanding Tai-Chi positions. The slow movements required her to use muscles that had been hurt and neglected and she found herself baring her teeth and grimacing more often than not… but she was able to move like this again… it meant her body was finally healing up and returning to its former strength.

The effort was tremendous and soon she found herself panting and sweating, but she kept at it resolutely, creating a void within her mind to relax herself as much as possible. Alexia knew more than enough about the power of mind over matter… but there was still some sort of emptiness within her that she had never felt before: she attributed it to the runed bands around her wrists and ankles, which kept her supposed powers at bay. Perhaps her abilities had been so ingrained she had never even realised they existed…

The sun shone like a beacon beyond her world, which was currently contained within his room with a balcony that she could have so easily jumped off from… if not for that chain… if not for her weakness and her guards and the fact she was a million miles from home…

Panic suddenly reared its ugly head and fought to seize her around the throat and she struggled with it for a moment; it was no easy task. It was hard not to give into the despair and emptiness of her exile on this false paradise known as Asgard. She kept moving, kept breathing… slowly the fear receded into a confine of her mind and stayed there, a tiny, vicious plague. There was naught she could do about it for now, at least until she could figure out how to get out of this situation.

Alexia had slipped into an extended yoga stretch when she heard the ruffle behind her.

At first, she attributed it to either Thor or Hogun getting up at last, but the profound silence that followed prompted her to turn around and face whatever had made that sound.

It was him again. She was barely surprised.

Loki.

He stood near the door, at the far end of the room, way beyond her immediate reach. He looked somewhat ruffled and unkempt, but not so much that it was unpleasing to the eye. Alexia suspected some sort of illusion, but without her own powers to guide her, she had no idea. It seemed to her he was cautious and curious but, again, she was no longer able to feel the world around her as she once had been able to.

There was a moment of long, tense silence between them as they started blatantly at one another. Neither Thor nor Hogun woke, so she suspected the God of Mischief to be playing some sort of trick or illusion on them to keep them in their state, although she wasn't sure.

"What do _you_ want?" She finally snarled softly, almost afraid of waking her guards.

Loki looked at her uneasily. "To help you."

Alexia scoffed. "You tried to enslave my whole planet, you vile little snake. Why in any Hell would I want your help?"

Loki's jaw clenched at her refute and she was somewhat satisfied at seeing it took him a moment to swallow it. Still, she had an unnerving feeling she was being played somehow.

"Consider it my… my hope for redemption. Surely my… _brother_ has told I am supposed to be dead?"

Slowly, she nodded. The girl had a pressing feeling that she was supposed to be cautious, but had no idea of what and how… it was confusing…

Loki pressed on urgently. "What I have done to Midgard was a mistake and a grave one, at that. I cannot replace the lives I have claimed through apology, but nor could I replace them through imprisonment, as my brother and father seemed to think fit. I have heard of you and what has been done to you and wanted to offer you my support, as meagre as it can be."

"To be pardoned for your crimes on Earth?" She asked, dubious.

"Nothing can pardon my crimes on Midgard. I was imprisoned for them, but that has done nothing to wash my ledger. I do not claim to have become something I am not, but I have misused Midgard and want to make amends. I ask of you the opportunity to do so."

"Assisting me will do nothing to wash your ledger." She snapped, angrier than she meant. She did not know this Asgardian, but he had caused massive destruction on her planet and she felt she had to at least harass him about it.

Loki scowled. "I have done more than that already. I fought alongside my brother when the Convergence threatened your world… I _died_ on Svartalfheim for your world…"

"Died?" She chuckled without humor. "And yet here you are…"

That silenced him.

Alexia stared at him. The room around her seemed strangely still and silent, but she paid it little attention. She was at a loss: trust this Asgardian she didn't know for anything more than a killer, or face the rest of her misadventure alone? Neither situation was appealing, but she still had to make a choice… she did not want help from Sif, who in truth was no more than her captor, same as Thor… but Loki…

He was presumed dead and considering he was standing right in front of her, perhaps he really was up to something and could be of some assistance…

"I don't see how you can help me." She finally sighed. With her powers or without, she still knew how to negotiate somewhat… she needed more to go on.

Loki nodded with understanding. "I can find out what you are. And how to free you."

Those were big promises… would he be able to keep them?

Alexia stayed emotionless, as always, debating a hundred thousand scenarios in her mind. The figure in her dreams had given her headway, but no answers… if she could get her hands on something substantial about her powers in the real world…

"Bring me proof about what I am and… and I'll consider your offer." She told him in a tone that left no room for negotiation.

Loki took it as such and bowed gently.

With a final flash of those emerald eyes, he was gone, vanished into thin air.

Thor stirred at once, emerging from a usually deep sleep.

(0)

Tony Stark had worked day and night almost without rest ever since the A.I. Art had contacted him with a need for help about the mystery girl and he was more than satisfied about his accomplishments so far.

He was a genius, after all: his mind was doing what it was best at… solving the problems no one else ever seemed to be able to solve.

He sat back with a sigh and stared pensively at the new suit of armor he was working on.

Named the Art Mark I for the A.I., it was more complex than anything he'd had to do so far, perhaps excluding the Veronica system. It was a slightly modified version of his previous Mark, but lightened considerably in order to be able to carry a new system: a compact, protected server for Art.

When the A.I. had first contacted him, it had taken her quite some time to bring him up to date. She'd revealed nothing about her human's actual life and profession, but had explained in detail how she came to be and what her functions were. Tony wasn't sure if he should be pissed about how his systems were hacked, or impressed that the girl and her unnamed friend had managed to do it, but truth was that Art was just as good as Friday, but slightly different all the same. No wonder she'd been able to hack and divert War Machine and one of his armors.

She informed him of the bionic earpiece Alexia (not Gabrielle Fosoway… damn the girl!) was equipped with and how transmission could no longer reach her. He wasn't surprised: Thor had probably taken her back to Asgard, which was aeons away and there was no current technology that could project a clear transmission that far and fast enough. The girl was on her own for the time being.

Which raised another issue: if they were ever to go to Asgard and get her back, his own suits wouldn't work. They were programmed to be assisted by Friday and although he could probably change them to respond only to him, he would find himself at a disadvantage… his own AI was constantly aiming, analyzing, calculating, assisting… there was so much she was doing that he couldn't even begin to think how he'd fare on his own.

That's why Art had intervened: she had proposed the idea that he build another suit that she could upload herself into entirely and run for him. That way, when they would go get Alexia, she'd be able to communicate with her again and he would be assisted by a program nearly identical to Friday.

Because they _were_ going to go get her back… how they were going to reach Asgard he had no idea, but there was no way he was letting Thor take and keep her. He wasn't anywhere close to being done with her; they still had that deal with the vodka standing!

Tony snapped out of his reverie and turned his attention to the construction of the server that would contain Art. Quantum computing had always been a hobby of his and now he needed to push his knowledge to the limit and literally invent a technology that did not even exist, so he could transform a few hundred pounds of servers into an object he could fit on his suit.

The day was going to be long… or was it night? Tony found he had no idea anymore.

(0)

On a world known as Jotunheim, the Jotun and Chitauri were working day and night to assemble the portal that would take them to Asgard.

The work was almost complete and the warriors were growing restless: the power of the Between Order and Chaos would soon be theirs.

(0)

That's all for now folks, I have a metric ton of homework to do! Please review, it motivates me!


	17. Time to move forward

Again, long time no write, but school really takes up a lot of my time. I try and think of the story as much as I can, but studying must take priority. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

(0)

Another morning.

Another morning, just as endlessly luminous as the one before.

Did it ever rain in this forsaken place? She wondered. Did storms ever ravage those snow-capped mountains? Did thunder ever shake those marble columns, omniscient and harrowing as only thunder could be? Was anything here anything else than perfect?

With each passing day, it felt more like a prison and less like safety. With each passing day that chain around her neck grew heavier as her body grew stronger.

There was fury brewing in her belly, but it was oppressed by her captivity. It was swirling about angrily like some trapped horror, turning on itself as it snapped and snarled and growled and howled…

Alexia was placid. Her face was without expression, her body betrayed no emotion. She had done this for years now; she had pretended to feel things she did not feel… she'd become very good at hiding what she was and who she was…

But it was difficult. Her captors knew nothing about her: none of them knew she had killed for a living, that she had tortured and wounded people because it was asked of her… They didn't know she had trained night and day for years to become better, faster, stronger… And she could not tell them. She no longer could perform her usual work outs to blow off some steam, because her captors had to think she was weak and talentless. She was bound and chained and as any wild animal in such a predicament, she was becoming restless.

Wolves are not meant for cages.

 _I'm going to snap._ She rose from her bed as lightly as feather, making not a sound. She wore a gown of light silk that bristled as she moved but she held it tight to her body so it would not make noise. Today she was guarded by Sif and Fandral, the final member of the Warriors three. Neither of them even stirred at her awakening; they might as well have been deaf.

This morning, she was angry. And it showed on her tense, snarling features. Alexia stared at the two Asgardians with disdain, for the first time truly contemplating taking them on in a fight. Her fury was pushing her, edging her on: she could easily sneak up on at least one of the two and plunge one of those long knives from the nearby table into one of their throats… of course, the other one would wake, but if she moved fast enough, she could subdue that one as well…

And then what? The chain around her neck bound her to this room. The runes around her ankles and wrists culled her powers. She hadn't even dreamt a single time since they had been put in place: she was a prisoner in her own body now.

Alexia snapped her jaw shut so tight she felt her teeth creak against each other. As she had grown stronger, her feeling of hopelessness had grown as well…

Behind her, a familiar ruffle sounded through the calm morning air.

She veered gracefully around and planted a hard stare on Loki, who stood near the open balcony this time, the bright morning light making him appear almost blinding.

"Haven't seen you in the longest time." She growled softly, accusingly, all the while glancing over her shoulder to make sure her captors did not wake.

Loki followed her gaze. "They won't wake. Not while I'm here." He moved gently towards the table set near her bed and seated himself comfortably, pulling closer a leftover plate of grilled fruit from the night before. It was probably cold, but Loki picked up a fork and started to nibble off it carefully, looking at her all the while. Her gaze did not waver, but her fury seemed to ease. Was it Loki using his powers, or was his presence really like a balm on this hell of a life?

She moved closer carefully, always silent, her steps not even echoing in the cavernous hall.

What her captors had failed to see for over nearly three weeks, Loki saw in an instant.

"You are no mere normal mortal." He stared carefully at her. She did not answer, knowing it was not a question, sitting down gracefully a few seats away from the Asgardian. "You are one of those Midgardians that has forsaken everything that makes them who they are and embraced the fundamental darkness within your kind? Blowing away all conventions and tearing yourself out of the mold, I suppose?"

"Does that change anything?" She asked coolly. She didn't need a psych evaluation… not from the likes of him.

"I suppose not… but I have yet had to encounter one such Midgardian. Your people tend to follow blindly like sheep… it is not often one breaks from the herd."

"Because you would know. You spent so much time getting to know us before you tried to destroy our world."

The silence that followed those words was heavy as the pair stared at each other. Each was evaluating the other, pondering, calculating… what was the advantage in this relationship and what was the risk of loss? Which one outweighed the other?

In the end, it was Alexia who lowered her gaze. She was the prisoner here. No matter what Loki was supposed to be, alive or dead, he had freedom that she did not have. She needed him more than he needed her…

Question was… _why_ did he need _her_? She vowed she would find out before this affair was over.

"Do you have any news for me? You said you'd free me, or at least… find out what I am…"

His green eyes were sharp as knives, full of mischief and she found she couldn't bring herself to look away… there was something hypnotizing in that gaze, something…

"I'm quite unfortunately the bearer of bad news." Loki said softly. "Although I am still to find anything of use as to what you truly are, I can say one thing for certain: those bindings that Odin placed on you are not going away any time soon."

Alexia clenched her jaw tight for a second. "How come?"

Loki picked up a nearby cup and seemed to take his sweet time in filling it with wine from a carafe, which he drank hungrily while she waited with barely veiled patience, gritting her teeth together.

"Well…" He spoke slowly, putting the cup down. "The only way for them to be removed is to be broken by the very power they contain. Meaning…"

"Only I can take them off." She sighed. "How am I supposed to do that if I don't even know what my powers are? Has anyone in the history of ever had to deal with a situation as vague as this?" She slammed a hand angrily on the table, rising swiftly. At once, her gaze fell on her sleeping captors, but seeing as they didn't even twitch, she allowed her fury to vent. She gave her chain a sharp yank and it rattled noisily behind her as she strode through the room, past Loki and to the balcony, almost fast enough to have some intent at launching herself over the banister. But the chain stopped her as she reached the marble balustrade and she snarled angrily, turning around anew to stride back to the table to sit back down in her chair heavily.

It was the most noise she'd done in two weeks. "I don't even know what I _can_ do. How… what… what am I supposed to do about all _this_ …"

Again, panic tried to seize her. She felt claustrophobic, trapped, a prisoner…

"I think the question is: what _can't_ you do?" Loki offered softly and she looked over at him, torn between despair and fury. "I have nothing of evidence to offer you as to what you are, but there are texts… _old texts_ … that speak of a power born from between the worlds…"

She'd heard that before. "What do those texts say?"

"That that power is limitless. Just as what exists and what does not, there is no end to it. So perhaps you are underestimating your potential."

She pondered this for a moment. It wasn't much to go on, but… with what the figure in her dreams had told her, it seemed to make some sense. She was the conduit for some primal force that was beyond the understanding of anyone, it seemed… if she could find a way to tap into it….

Loki's gaze left her and settled resolutely on the door to the room.

"It seems I must be off. I'll do my best to return with better news. Until then, do try not to miss me too much."

She sent him a frown as he rose and vanished like a shadow into thin air.

The moment he did, the door to the room burst open, letting in an overzealous Thor and waking both her guards.

(0)

Thor strode into the room like a hurricane, ever the explosive one. Sif and Fandral rose rapidly to greet him, rubbing sleep from their eyes and trying to regain composure after an unnaturally deep sleep… Everyone settled fast enough around the large table where Alexia was seated, greeting her warmly as servants strode into the room to clean last night's meal and bring in fresh plates. Thor turned his full attention to her the moment he was seated.

"Are you feeling well enough to leave the room?" His question was sudden and brusque and took her off guard.

"I… I guess. Why?"

He nodded, pleased. "My father is hosting a feast tonight in his Great Hall and has asked me to invite you as his guest of honor. It would mean a great deal if you could attend."

Alexia stared at him for a moment, lost for words.

Sif took her confusion as shyness and intervened quickly. "Of course, you would be groomed and tended to in order to look most presentable, I assume. The Great Hall hosts feasts for the greatest occasions; I'm sure all the arrangements would be made to prepare you for such." She gave Thor a hard look as if reproaching him his lack of tact in the matter. Alexia hadn't even thought about looking presentable…

"Why does he suddenly want me around?" She asked cautiously.

Thor shrugged. "He wanted you to rest from the wounds you sustained on Midgard. Now that your condition has improved, he thought you might like to leave this room more often. The best way to celebrate your recovery is to feast it, after all."

"And when did he decide all this?"

The blonde shrugged anew. "Last night. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." Alexia pulled a bowl full of hard-boiled eggs closer and grabbed two to nibble on. "Sure. I'll go."

 _Anything to get out of this room_.

(0)

They broke their fast and Thor and Fandral left the room, leaving her alone with Sif. The female warrior approached her cautiously, holding a golden key. Alexia watched her come closer wearily, almost barely believing what was going on. Within a moment, that key slipped into an unseen hole in the collar around her neck and it opened up, falling with a heavy clang to the floor.

Alexia suddenly felt light enough to fly.

"Of course, I am to escort you at all times." Sif reminded gently. "Considering we will be attending… womanly issues today, the others thought it would be best if was the one to stay with you."

Alexia stared at that heavy golden chain as it lay on the marble ground, coiled around itself like some shimmering snake and found she felt in a much better mood than when she had woken.

"Don't forget that the bands also keep me in check." She said softly.

Sif nodded. "They do. Are toy ready?"

The girl smirked. "Sure."

They left the room for the first time in three weeks and Alexia could not have been more thrilled. No matter her flowing gown, in which she felt almost naked, the moment they breeched that door, her chin went up and she walked with unmasked confidence. The room gave way to a long balcony which dwarfed it, marble columns several stories high rising to hold up a cavernous ceiling. The balcony circled a gorgeous indoor garden, filled with trees and springs and flowers of every imaginable color… there were male and female Asgardian casually strolling about, but none of them could hide their interest as she passed nearby. Midgardians were a rare occurrence in Asgard, after all…

Alexia strode after Sif, evaluating her strength fully. Now that she was unbound and no longer disturbed by the chain around her neck, she could appreciate how her body had healed: although she felt some weakness where her rib had been snapped in her back, everything else seemed to have returned to normal. She'd been careful to eat well and practice slow exercises every morning and it had paid off…

They walked around the courtyard, passing numerous curious Asgardians, before taking a stairway down and through another corridor to reach a set of heavy wooden doors. Alexia noted that she was slightly out of breath after the journey, whereas Sif hadn't even broken a sweat. Her condition was not as optimal as she could have hoped.

Sif stopped before the doors. "These are the thermal baths, which I know will do you much good. They work wonders on healing wounds. Do not be alarmed, but within the waters are what we call Nymphs. They will care for you, just trust them."

Intrigued, Alexia nodded, before following the warrior through the door.

They entered an area that could be decried as a locker room, but with wooden hooks hanging from the stone walls to hang your belongings on. Sif started to strip her garb, so Alexia followed her initiative and pulled off her flowing silk gown. She wore nothing underneath, so it was a fast process, compared to the Asgardian, who had several layers of leather and metal to remove.

Alexia hung the gown from a hook and looked around curiously, naked as her birth day. She'd been able to wash herself in a basin in her room these past few weeks, but nothing could compare to a real bath! Sif glanced at her and noted, not for the first time, the scars that covered her back and front.

"You seem to have… many battle wounds, for one that does not battle." She observed. "I noted them when we first brought you to Asgard and tended your wounds. May I ask how does one come across so many scars?"

The girl looked down sadly, searching for a plausible lie. Those wounds came from situations where she had almost died, fighting someone or killing someone or generally causing mayhem… but the Asgardian could not know the truth of it. So she lied.

"On Earth… Midgard… sometimes the people who call themselves our parents don't care for us quite as much as parents should. And they think they have a right to hurt us as much as they please. So they do. And those marks stay with us for the rest of our lives." She shrugged.

Sif nodded knowingly, hanging up the last of her clothes. "That is not unheard of in Asgard. We do not often have children, as our lives span many times yours, but some of us that do, treat them in a manner that is most… unkind."

 _I'm such a drama queen…_ Alexia nodded sympathetically, before following the warrior through another set of heavy wooden doors.

The first thing that hit her was a wall of steam so thick that she could almost walk on it and could barely see her own hand in front of her face. Then warmth spread through every bone in her body, unwinding every muscle on its way and Alexia knew she would be having a wonderful time here…

And she hadn't even entered the baths yet.

(0)

It is midnight and this is as far as I go. I need to study for linear algebra!

Thank you everyone for the reviews! Erika, I love that you loved that chapter!


	18. What goes up must come down

I know it's been a terrible while since I've written and I'm sorry about it. Truth is, perhaps this story has taken a turn I had not originally wanted and I find it hard to keep going. I was about to take it down for sheer lack of reviews, but I took a look at the view graph and have realized that several hundred people have made it all the way to the last chapter and I feel very cheap letting them down.

So to you, reader, know that your review, as short as it may be, contributes to help motivate me to keep writing. School starts anew in a few days but I will do what I can to keep going, to keep writing. For you, few hundred silent readers.

I truly hope you enjoy this story.

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Stark stepped back from the suit. Grease stained his hands and shirt and there were cuts all over his arms from where he'd snagged his skin on sharp metal, but he wore a satisfied smirk nonetheless. He stood silent for a moment, admiring the fruit of these past few weeks' worth of work.

The suit per se was smaller than any other he had ever built, but it was nearly twice as heavy, due to the bulk of computerized elements contained within, because of which it actually appeared larger than it could have been. The chest and back were lined with complex circuitry, linked to the power core that powered the rest of the suit. Art had provided pointers to how best assemble a functioning system that could house her information and had even gone as far as establishing contact with a young Asian man named Jonathan, who, after explicitly explaining how honored he was to talk to Tony, had contributed his vast knowledge to the issue. Tony wasn't sure how much he could confide in the young man, so he had kept Alexia's location a secret for security reasons, letting the young man know that she was simply in need of their help.

As they parted over their last online conversation, the awkward Jonathan had taken a moment to sigh and purse his lips thoughtfully.

"Bring her back." He seemed awfully out of his ease. "She's… she's a good person. Make sure… just bring her back."

Jonathan cut the communication before Tony could answer and that had been the last time he'd heard of the young man.

Now, as he stared at his hard work, Tony could not help but start wondering what he was even getting himself into. Work had always been a way for him to escape, to fill his hyperactive, immense mind with tasks that could shut it up for hours on end, so he wouldn't have to endlessly question every detail of his life. But now that the work was done… well…

He'd met her on a whim: a single evening that should not have meant any more than that… but somehow it did. He did not love her: that was sure. His heart was still in pieces from his time with Pepper, but… but what? It was increasingly hard to explain why he even wanted to help her… why he cared… it was unlike him… but somehow he did care.

Perhaps this was part of a bigger picture. Thor hadn't said much when he came to claim her in a hail of fire and explosions, but it was clear that Heimdall sensed in her a force that could be beyond anything they'd ever faced. She was a danger, even if she didn't know it yet. Perhaps it was something beyond his very comprehension that was driving him to bring her back to Earth, where he thought she would be safe…

Damned if he knew, because he truly had no idea.

The only thing that was certain was that he had to act and he had to do it now. Somehow he felt that time was of the essence at this point. It was time to contact the ragtag team of warriors called the Avengers and try to convince them that forcing open a portal to a world a galaxy away was the smartest thing to do at this time.

"Yeah, right…" Tony grumbled under his breath.

(0)

Alexia followed Sif through the foggy room, feeling awfully at ease in the warmth that enveloped her body. They passed a few other women: tall, svelte and graceful Asgardians that looked at them curiously, almost mockingly. They were nothing like Sif, who was hard as stone, with chiseled muscles that flowed beneath her skin like some great beasts and for a moment Alexia wondered how common it was for the women of this world to turn out warriors. Sif seemed to be pointedly ignoring them, so she figured this might not be the best time to question her about it, but she vowed she'd satisfy her curiosity about it eventually.

They walked through the seemingly vast room nearly to the end, to reach a pond-like basin that had no one else bathing in it. Sif slipped into the steaming water first with a sigh of contentment and Alexia gently followed her, trying not to grimace at the intense heat of the water: it was nearly boiling! But this was the first bath she could take in a long while, so she was instantly enjoying it.

In the middle of the large pond was a small island covered in moss and small trees, from which emerged a creature unlike any Alexia had ever seen: somewhat humanoid, with webbed hands and feet and skin the color of lagoon water, it slid into the water grinning a soft smile. Its hair was like flowing algae, and as it neared in a fluid, silent swim, Alexia noted it had short, sharp claws as well. But Sif was smiling at it as it came near, so she tried to relax and not fret.

"This is a Nymph. They dwell in the palace pools and enjoy the company of Asgardians when we come to bathe. They like to tend to us and especially enjoy brushing our hair." The warrior explained as the strange being swam up to her and began slowly running those sharp claws through her braid to undo it.

Alexia watched in silent fascination as more of the creature emerged from the deeper part of the pool without so much as a ripple and swam up to her. She was somewhat reminded of sharks, especially when they smiled and revealed sharp, pointed fangs, but remained still when they reached her and began touching her.

She'd never been a fan of physical contact, especially by people (or creatures) she did not know and particularly when there were a lot of them. It probably had to do with the pain, violence and sexual assault in her past. But she still remained still for them.

Somehow sensing her tension, Sif turned to her knowingly as another nymph came close with a rough sponge and some sort of soap to wash her.

"They won't hurt you." She assured.

"It's not the pain that bothers me." Alexia answered curtly, taking a deep breath nonetheless to relax her tense body. Surely, the nymph stroked her hair and with every movement, the unease seemed to lessen. Another came close and started to massage her shoulders and only then did she realise how much they hurt… her muscles came unwound slowly and she sat back, allowing the strange beings to do what they enjoyed: polish, brush and pluck her body of all things unsightly until she was raw and fresh and new…

They had probably been there hours, honestly she had no idea. But when she emerged from those bath, Alexia felt physically stronger than she had since before her altercation with the Avengers and found her body had been so thoroughly scrubbed that even her scars barely showed. It was a first…

They proceeded to another room, where Sif donned garb that was most uncommon to her: a heavy satin dress held at the waist by a jeweled sash, along with slight heels that clicked gently against the marble floor when she moved. She seemed so uncomfortable that Alex couldn't help but laugh… that is, until the maids brought in her own clothes and she saw she'd be wearing a light silk dress even more revealing that the horror she'd been trapped in these past few weeks, along with heels higher than any she'd ever worn. She was smaller than the smallest of the Asgardians: perhaps it was normal for them to try and make her appear bigger…

As her burnt, short hair was being artfully designed into something womanly and she was bedecked with a heavy jeweled necklace that felt like her chain all over again, she shot an amused glance as Sif, who was suffering the same fate.

"They're decking me out like a maid for a wedding, aren't they?" Alexia scoffed.

She was expecting a rebuff, but the unsure look Sif sent her made her feel suddenly sick. Something was afoot and she knew it now. Even the warrior was confused by this level of preparation and to Alex, who knew nothing of the customs of this weird world, it was quite suddenly terrifying.

"Sif? What's wrong?" Alexia demanded, hiding the strain in her voice quite well.

The warrior shrugged. "It seems like a lot of ceremony for a simple feast, I don't know…"

"Sif!"

"I…" She sighed. "The All father wants to welcome a guest of high honor, which is you. I suppose it is expected to have this much… preparation for said guest…"

"Do you know something I should know?" Alexia's voice was hard now, cold as ice. But Sif shook her head.

"I do not. I'm simply accustomed to wear my own garb at feasts. This is all probably meaningless." She smiled gently. But Alexia was not fooled: her line of work demanded that she be able to read people better than they knew themselves in order to foresee their actions and save her own skin. She could tell that Sif was confused and uneasy… and it probably meant nothing good for her…

They were all prepped and ready shortly after and Alexia could not help but acknowledge how fabulous she looked: her skin shone and the dress brought out the color of her eyes, while her hair looked somehow gorgeous no matter the fact that it had been badly singed three weeks before. Her scars seemed like pale illusions beneath the floating silk of the dress and she had to admit that no stylist on Earth had ever managed to make her look even half as good.

They left the room with her following Sif and headed through shiny corridors illuminated by torches and candles all the way to a set of immense, golden double doors. Two armored guards stood watch on either side of the entrance, standing still, stiff and soundless, their blank eyes staring straight ahead. Only when the women reached them did they move suddenly, grabbing the handles to the gigantic doors to push them open for them, revealing a glorious, illuminated hall beyond.

It was hard to hide her amazement in this palace, truly. Alexia had never seen structures anywhere near as huge as these, especially ones made of marble and covered in gold such as these were. The hall must have been the length of a football field, an enormous table made of thick, polished wood filling its center. Benches lined the table on each side and it seemed simply ready to cave underneath the metric ton of steaming food and rich alcohols that covered it. Large fires blazed in hearths as tall as a man along the walls of the hall and bright, golden chandeliers illuminated the high, rising ceiling above them. There was so much color and shine that the young woman was at a loss as to what she should be gaping at first…

Then she noticed the vast array of guests in the room, all of which turned like curious birds to spot them as they entered. An announcer next to the door bellowed so loudly she had to stifle a cry.

"The Lady Sif! And the Midgardian guest of honor, the Lady Alexia!"

A curious murmur coursed through the crowd and Alexia saw that absolutely no one paid attention to Sif: everyone was staring avidly at her.

And she hated it.

Before those magic bands had been placed around her ankles and wrists, she could have surely swayed this crowd to her whim. That gift, which she had so long thought a mere figment of her imagination, had allowed her to connect with people around her as though their mind were a part of her mind… it allowed her to divert or attract attention, or to stagger someone long enough for her to regain control on a situation… but now that her powers were culled, she felt like no more than a naked anomaly beneath all those hungry gazes, like an animal heading for slaughter…

But as she walked with as much pride and carelessness as she could muster through that herd of stares, she found herself realizing something: her power had linked her to people, just like it used to link her to whole crowds before. And it had allowed her to feel a link to the energy of Steve Roger's shield and Wanda's red energy when she fought them… as it had allowed her to link to the soldiers she had blown up…

And it all came down to her dreams, to how they were a bridge between worlds and to the figure and to…

"Ah! At long last, she arrives!" Odin strode forward, his one good eye fixed on her. He grabbed her hand with powerful gentleness and kissed it lightly. Feeling the stares of a hundred eyes, Alexia bowed slightly, awkwardly, to pay some sort of respect to the king of this realm. He nodded at her and gestured to the far end of the table, where an enormous chair towered at the lord's place.

"Let us be seated and let them feast begin! It is high time we welcome our new guest as is due, with cheering and drinking. Come now!"

He turned and strode off, his cape flying. Thor was nearby so he fell into stride at once, nodding at her. Alexia followed as quickly as she dared on those ridiculously high heels, trying to remain graceful in those unusual circumstances. The king led them to the end of the table and everyone in the room slowly took place on the benches, calling for more ale and wine. Thor sat at Odin's right, as was his due and the All father gestured for her to sit at his left. From what she'd read in books on Earth and the wanton glances sent her way, Alexia knew this was a place of high honor. However, she could not help but feel an uncomfortable tightness of doubt as she took her place beside the king of Asgard and he began the feast with a toast and boom of laughter.

She drank the ale set before her quickly, relishing its quality. The strong alcohol helped to settle the fear that was brewing in her belly, as it had time and time before. How many times had shots and wine helped cull the fear of the bittersweet relationship she had had with Hugh?

'No.' She thought to herself harshly. She'd sworn she wouldn't think of him anymore, at least not until this whole matter was resolved and she was either returned to Earth or had found a way to get herself back on her own. It was useless torture to think about him…

Sif was seated on her left and was helpfully trying to point out a few important figures and their names… Lord of this and Dutch of that and this one was a merchant that dealt in rare goods from the realm of Noonecares… Alexia did not even try to pretend to be interested. A few Asgardians, especially males, tried to call out to her, ask questions and share jests, but she stared them down with as much politeness as she could manage, until they shrugged helplessly away from her glare. The women seemed either intrigued or politely disgusted, neither of which even remotely made her feel better. She talked with Sif and the Warriors Three and Thor, all seated nearby, because she knew them and felt infinitely more comfortable with them.

So she drank. There was food, but she wasn't hungry on account of her stomach being tied in a knot. There was wine that felt like honey in her mouth and ale that tasted better than anything other thing that she'd ever tasted in her life. It went down her throat gulp after gulp until she was quite piss-fucking drunk, thank you very much…

Someone made a comment about how Midgardians weren't known for being able to hold their liquor and for the first time in the evening, she burst out in genuine laughter. Somehow she managed to challenge said commenter to out-drink her, but Sif stepped in casually to propose she try the massive dish set before her, which was apparently a whole boar roasted for hours in a glaze of wine and honey. At this point, she had no idea what to do or think anymore, she piled some meat into her plate and ate broodingly without further challenges.

Sometime after, when the alcohol had receded to more acceptable levels in her system, Odin rose from his high seat and a slow hush crept over the busy hall as every gaze turned to the king and people eagerly awaited his announcement.

Sipping on wine just to keep the hangover at bay, Alexia suddenly remembered that she had entered the hall with a feeling of dread and realized that this very moment might be the precise reason why. She stared up at the bearded man, hiding her feelings but bracing herself for the worst.

"Dear guests." Odin began in a voice that boomed across the room and bounced off the marble walls. "As you all know, we have the honor to have amongst us a guest from the realm of Midgard. She has been brought here a few weeks from today for her own protection, as well as that of her world." There was some whispering at those words and Alexia realized the people had some suspicion as to what she was. "She was brought here because she is a being of exception that has been foreseen by the All-Seeing Heimdall. She is no ordinary Midgardian and, as such, it had been deemed most favorable for the safety of the realms for her to remain a guest of honor here on Asgard for the remainder of her life."

Her heart skipped a beat and for a moment, Alexia was sure that the very air had vanished from the room. She couldn't breathe… she couldn't… what was going on… what…

"As such, she will be given a place at court and the possibility to marry a high-standing Asgardian of her choosing so that she may live out the remainder of her life in the safety and protection of our realm…"

Odin kept speaking and the air kept resolutely refusing to return to her lungs.

He had to be kidding. The remainder of her life? A place at court?

 _Marriage_?

Suddenly she was rising to her feet like a bolt of lightning, flinging her cup and plate aside with all the fury and rage she could muster, her lips pulled back in an animal snarl that made her most unfitting to be anyone's wife at the moment…

" _No way in any fucking Hell am I going to do that. No. Fucking. Way._ "

The silence that followed her growled words was a nice prelude to how things would go downhill from there.

(0)

Alrighty boys and girls, that's it. A nice fat chapter for you. Like I said above, your reviews do count. I can't believe nearly five hundred of you had reached the last chapter but only 2 have reviewed. I don't mind if it's short, or anonymous. I appreciate constructive criticism and am grateful for it. I also really love a small word of encouragement.

Don't be shy. Keep me going!


	19. Clubbed into dank submission

Many thanks for the reviews! They are heartwarming to read even if they are short!

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There was death in the silence that filled the room. It was crushing, as heavy as a lead blanket over every guest, guard and especially over her. It seemed as though eternity passed and all she could hear was the thundering of her own heart in her ears as it beat with the adrenaline of her outburst and she stared Odin straight in his one good eye, unblinking, all the fury of the world focused in her narrowed gaze. Her fists were clenched so tightly that her manicured nails, courtesy of the nymphs, were drawing blood from her palms and her jaw was set so hard her teeth were creaking against one another.

Odin took a deep slow breath.

"I believe Lady Alexia has had too much-…"

"Can it." She snarled. There was a gasp somewhere in the room. Every eye was on her but she saw none other than his. That one, dangerous, shining orb that just dared her to defy him one more time… Well Odin just had no idea who he had sparked, did he?

"You planned this, didn't you?" She hissed. Her voice was ever so slightly slurred by the alcohol she had consumed, but the intensity of the situation was sobering her up quite fast. "You knew I'd never accept something like this if you propose it in private, so you organized this… this… farce to announce it publicly. You thought I wouldn't dare… wouldn't dare oppose… It doesn't matter. You _kidnapped me_. Stole me from my world. How can you even _fathom_ I would stay here? _WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"_

Her last words echoed through the golden hall like thunder. Odin's face darkened visibly as he scowled at her.

"I am Odin, king of Asgard. What I say is law. You will obey. It is in the best interest-…"

"Or what?"

He frowned. "Or what, what?"

She smile humorlessly, spreading her arms wide. "I'll obey, you say… or what? What will you do, All father? Pray tell. I can't wait to hear that one."

Odin seemed more frustrated by the second. "Or you will end up in the dungeons like a common prisoner. Your fate is yours to decide. It all falls to-…"

"Lies." Alexia was sneering. "My fate is yours to pick as you see fit. Or so you think. The only reason you have any hold on me is these.." She raised her arms, where the rune bands shone. "Because I am a chained wolf and meek and weak… or so you think..."

She raised a leg and placed her foot against the chair behind her, kicking it back. It slid several feet and toppled over heavily, banging hard against the marble floor, causing en echoed ruckus in the room. Slowly, the girl backed up, testing her heels. She wiggled slightly in the high shoes and loosened the clasps that held them in place, sliding out of them and touching the cold floor with bare feet. Now that she was in contact with the ground, the only thing slowing her movement was the stupid silk gown, but if she had to fight naked, by God she was willing to rip it off.

The guests had risen as well, glancing from her to Odin worriedly, as Sif made a move to stop her before standing aside almost pitifully with the rest of the Warriors Three. Only Thor seemed to want to put an end to the conflict, placing a hand on his father's arm and whispering something to him as Odin stared angrily at the girl. But the king shook his son off with a growl and raised his hand.

"Seize her."

Alexia bared her teeth almost in amusement. It had been a while since she'd had a good fight.

She'd spent the last three weeks pretending to be weak and useless and no more than a mere human culled by the magic placed around her ankles and wrists, but truth to the matter was that she was a trained assassin that had haunted Earth's shadows and nightmares long before she knew she had any sort of power. She's trained day and night for years to achieve the reflexes and strength she had now… and even though she'd been hurt recently, her body had healed magnificently. The girl observed the guards approaching her cautiously as she slowly flexed her muscles, willing them to wake and flow as they so often had.

The guards were armored and armed, of course. That gave her a net disadvantage, but she didn't falter: every armor had a weak spot and just as her own had allowed a blow to break one of her ribs, these would allow her to subdue the attackers if only she could out-dance and out-last them.

Because what was hand-to-hand combat if not a dance of blades and grace?

They had razor-sharp spears and she had a silk gown.

The first guard jabbed his weapon in her direction but she batted it away and slid along it to whack him in the jaw, where his helm did not protect him. He reeled back with a groan and she dodged around him to kick his back and send him sprawling.

They had heavy armor and she had a silk gown.

Where once she could count on her light Kevlar suit to protect her, now she had nothing. But because she had nothing, she was infinitely lighter and faster than they were and as such, had far more endurance and stamina to put into the fight. It was said most fights were won by the one who could out-breathe the other…

It was time to test that theory.

The guests scrambled to the doors as Odin hollered at his guards to get a hold of her.

Alexia felt the cold ground beneath her toes, the cool air in her lungs, the hard stares of everyone watching… it was as though the world slowed down and everything came into terrifying focus…

Another guard lunged forward. She spun sideways, avoiding his aimed spear and grabbed it. She pushed it towards him with all her strength and yanked it right back as fast as she could, ripping it out of his hands. It flowed through her fingers with all most as much grace as her blades and she brought it around to hit the guard with a mighty blow right beneath his helm, before bringing it around in another arc and slamming the sharp end into a breech between his thigh and abdomen. The spear went in silver and came out dripping red as the guard fell down screaming.

The others came at her all at once. Suddenly it was a whirlwind of screams and blades and flashes of armor…

She spun out of the way, dodged like only a cat could and parried blow after blow, never losing her footing or any terrain… she kept the guards moving, throwing off their spears and blades, but keeping out of their reach as deftly as she could.

Alexia had never lived a more intense moment. She'd never been more in the present.

When she miss-stepped and a blade cut shallowly into her right thigh, she ignored it. The blood flowed red but it was though it had no happened. The girl singled out the guard who had hurt her, snaked her way around the others and managed to drive her own spear into the side of his knee, losing it there. She leapt out of the way of more blows, dripping soft red dots onto the marble floor and retreated to the banquet table, leaping upon it and dancing around the various dishes still cooling on it. The guests had cleared.

She saw Sif and the Warriors Three glancing at one another, clearly wondering if they should intervene… but Odin had said no more than to order his guards after her… he was staring at the assault angrily, his fists clenched.

 _Let's show the boys and girls what a wolf does when it gets angry, shall we?_ Alexia smirked without humor.

She back-flipped as one of the guards made to slash at her legs with his sword, leaping deftly over the blade and grabbing a hold on a knife on the table. She sent it flying as soon as she aimed at said guard and it found home in his left eye, stopping him right in his tracks.

Then she flew.

Her body was tiered, harrowed by the wounds she had suffered these past few weeks and limited because of the magic bands that culled her said powers, but she pushed past everything and kept on going out of sheer hatred for Odin.

And she flew. The girl leapt off the table, grabbed the knife she's thrown at the guard to yank it out of his eye and parried another spear blow. Fast as lighting, she flew alongside the wooden spear and stabbed the Asgardian in the neck, before dodging around him and pushing his heavy, armored body into the guard right next to him. She moved from behind him and stabbed the next guard in her way, slipping under his arm to punch the next one in the nose before slipping right out from under them all.

 _Odin._

Yes, she knew. Her enraged gaze slipped across the room like a whisper until it landed on the king.

She did not hesitate. She flew.

It had to end at the source.

Lightening. She was lighting. Thunder and lightning.

Nothing could stop a bolt of lightning.

Nothing…

But more lightening…

Thor shouted something inaudible and slammed his hammer down just as she leapt over the last chair standing in her way to Odin, knife held vice-tight in her fist, lips pulled back in savage determination…

The actual bolt of lightning that hit her was the very definition of an unstoppable force hitting an immovable object: she froze right where she was and collapsed like a stone, her heart skipping a few beats.

And then there was darkness.

(0)

When Loki closed the door to the royal chambers behind him, he let his illusion of Odin fall with a long sigh that truly depicted the stress he had lived that evening… Truthfully, his plan had gone sideways in a way he had not predicted at all, mainly because he had gravely under-estimated the Midgardian girl and what she was capable of doing when pushed to the limit…

How had she done any of that fighting, anyways? He'd understood from Heimdall that she was indeed a being of exception, but her powers were currently numbed by the powerful runes on her body… so what she'd demonstrated an hour ago showed that she was trained as a warrior equal to the Midgardian Black Widow, if not superior. He'd noted before that she seemed a fighter, but he'd never thought it was of such a calibre and if it hadn't been for Thor, who had stunned the furious wench with a bolt of pure lighting, he'd probably be standing in this room with a dinner knife perturbing from his neck.

"Well that went well." A voice teased from the shadows of the room.

Loki turned his angered gaze to it like a hawk. "Hardly the time for that, girl."

Kerra emerged from the darkness with a soft pout. "My king, I only meant…"

"No matter." Loki growled. "I underestimated her, yes. But she is still no more than a mortal without any idea she's being played. I just need to appeal to her hatred now… this might even work better than what I had originally planned."

The God of Mischief slid into the clothes he'd worn when previously visiting the girl and pushed Kerra away when she tried to slide an arm around his waist. Kerra hid her disappointment as well as she could as Loki turned his back on her and vanished into thin air.

(0

Her heart was still thumping heavily and somehow unevenly, a heavy, weighed pain crushing her chest, but Alexia was alive and snarling in some dank dungeon miles beneath the Asgardian surface.

"And here I was complaining about how perfect that stupid world looked…" She snapped at no one, her words echoing in the moist darkness of the underground lair. It was cold and lightless and she had no cot to lay on or blanket to cover herself with. She'd woken in this place and now expected to die in it. Her silk gown was torn, her thigh was bleeding and she was freezing, hungover and woozy. This was definitely on the list for worst day ever.

She hadn't explored her cell, mainly because of the pain in her chest and gaping wound in her leg, but she knew it was nothing more than damp ground and cold bars. She'd been brought here to be broken, not to be pampered… She'd pushed her luck and there was no more mercy left for the likes of her…

So Alexia sat back against a dripping stone wall and sighed softly, pressing feeble hands to the soft bleeding of her leg.

It wasn't long before she heard a soft shuffle of clothing nearby, resonating through the distant screaming and mumbling of the other prisoners in the background: someone was in the cell with her.

"Perhaps I could help?" A gentle voice question from right next to her.

She sighed anew when she recognized the God of Mischief and wondered where this situation was going to lead.

(0)

Again, I love reading your reviews! They make me want to write even through the stress of sciences as a study! Keep em coming!


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